


Bloodline

by banana_louis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Body Worship, Drunk Sex, Edging, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gay Sex, High Sex, Larry Stylinson Is Real, Love, M/M, Meeting, Orgasm Denial, POV Harry, POV Louis, POV Switches, Public Blow Jobs, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Shower Sex, Smut, So many blowjobs, Spanking, a little bit of denial actually, all just recreational though, and rimming each other, im sorry, just a little bit though, lots of fluff, lots of smut, nothing heavy, sorry mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-10 07:46:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 177,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5577193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banana_louis/pseuds/banana_louis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis doesn't know how to feel when his best friend, Liam, finds out about a brother that he never knew, who was placed for adoption before he was born and is bursting into his life at twenty-four years old. </p><p>Louis is very wary of the man who might replace him. He has always thought of Liam as his own brother. </p><p>What if Liam doesn't need him anymore? What if there's no room for Louis? After all, blood runs thicker than water. </p><p>Louis doesn't like Liam's new brother and he doesn't even know him. That's irrelevant, though. </p><p>He doesn't like him. He doesn't trust him. He doesn't want him hanging around. He doesn't want anything to do with him.</p><p>That is, until he meets him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! There will be an epilogue coming at some point to tie up a few loose ends and whatnot, so stay tuned for that. Big big BIG thank you to everyone who has read it, left kudos, left comments or messaged me. Means a lot.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis helps Liam after he gets some big news. Harry gets a message that will change his life.
> 
> They're both unprepared for what lies ahead.

******  
1.1

THE BEGINNING  
Saturday, April 11, 2015

LOUIS  
******

“Arrgh.”

Louis cracked one eye open and squinted directly into the bright sunlight. It was rude. Aggressive, actually. Light itself was so unnecessary, especially on a Saturday morning. The sun could fuck right off. 

He licked his lips in an attempt to conjure up some semblance of moisture, but his mouth was dry and stale. His tongue felt like sandpaper against the chapped skin. Fuck.

“I am never drinking again,” he groaned.

He knew even as the words left his mouth that they were bullshit. 

He rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face into his pillow. Taking a deep, steadying breath through his nose, his brain vaguely registered that his bed sheets needed a wash. That would need to wait for another day. Today was for sleeping. Maybe throwing up, but mostly sleeping.

“I am never drinking wine again,” he mumbled into his pillow, as if repeating the words would somehow make them true.

He rolled over onto his back and slowly raised his upper body into a seated position, rubbing his palms into his eyes and willing himself not to vomit on his bed. His head throbbed. 

He reached over to his bedside table and fumbled through the mess of items until his fingers landed on his glasses. He slid them onto his face, bringing his too-bright bedroom into focus around him. His head throbbed harder.

Fragmented, blurry memories of the night before began slowly surfacing in his mind. Stan’s birthday. Lots of people. Wine. Lots of wine. Making out with someone who may or may not be Stan’s cousin. Regret. Lots of regret.

Louis had intended to take it easy last night and stay mostly sober to keep an eye on things, seeing as the party was taking place at his and Liam’s flat. Just a couple glasses of wine, he had told himself. Two or three, at most, he had told himself. 

Well, he had fucked that up.

He should never have agreed to host Stan’s party in the first place but, as he had not-so-gently reminded Louis a month ago, Louis owed him for the many parties Stan had thrown for him over the years. Plus, Louis felt guilty. It felt like they were beginning to grow apart. After decades of friendship, they had only seen each other twice over the past six months. Twice. Not all of that was Louis’ fault, but most of it was. 

Between work and footie and Netflix and sleeping, it was just harder to find the time to make the two-hour drive from London to Doncaster than it used to be. Adulthood was a bitch.

“Boxed wine,” Stan had suggested. “It’s cheap. Let’s do that.”

“You want to have a boxed wine birthday party?” 

“I went to this party in Uni and we played a game with boxed wine. Like a relay race. It was fun and everyone got hammered,” Stan had mumbled through a mouth full of pizza. He finished chewing and swallowed loudly as he wiped sauce from the corner of his mouth. “Was a lot of fun.”

“A relay race? Drinking wine? Do you have a death wish?” Louis had asked, shooting Stan a skeptical, sideways look as he paused his game of FIFA. “I feel sick just thinking about that, honestly. Sounds horrible.”

“It was really fun when we did it,” Stan had argued. “Plus, it will be way cheaper than doing kegs. And people will get drunk faster. And since it’s a game, no one will get bored. Also I’ll clean your entire flat afterward, top to bottom.”

“It sounds complicated.” 

“You said I could pick the theme!”

“Did I?” Louis had asked distractedly as he sipped his beer, pretending not to remember that he had, indeed, said that.

“You owe me,” Stan had whined as he tossed a piece of pizza crust at the side of Louis’ face. The hard bread bounced off his temple and tumbled to the floor. “Remember for your twentieth, when you wanted to have that superhero ‘rave’ at my flat—“

“I do not recall that,” Louis lied.

“—and you convinced me to let you paint my living room walls with that glow-in-the-dark paint that you swore wouldn’t show unless we had the black light on—“

“Not ringing any bells,” Louis had mumbled, taking another sip of his beer.

“—and you painted dicks all over the walls, but then it turned out that you could definitely see the dicks even when the black lights were off and I lost my entire security deposit?”

And thus, Louis had agreed to host the party.

Now, lying in bed the morning after, rubbing his temples and feeling like absolute shit, he tried to recall where exactly it all went wrong. He remembered everything up until about midnight. 

He vaguely recalled carrying an entire box of wine around under his arm for what feels like hours. He remembered begging various partygoers to help him engineer a “mega-straw” by linking together a multitude of regular straws in an attempt to drink the wine straight from the box. Genius, truly. 

After that, things are fuzzy. Very fuzzy. Fuzzy, like, black.

He tentatively placed both feet on the floor, gripping the edge of the bed and inhaling slowly through his nose. Breathing was hard. To be fair, it would probably be easier if his nostrils were not being assaulted by a myriad of disgusting odors ranging from warm, cheap, spilled wine to old pizza to hard-boiled eggs (why?!?) to what can only be described as “wet dog” with each staggered, painful breath. The last one was a bit concerning, seeing as neither he nor Liam owned a dog. 

The flat smelled rancid.

Louis reached over to grab his phone where it buzzed on the bedside table. He swiped to unlock the home screen, which revealed several clues to the events of the previous night – a few sent text messages with horrendously misspelled words, some questionable pictures that would need to be deleted immediately, and something suspiciously sticky caked to the screen that he didn’t want to touch. 

He opened the most recent unread text, squinting down at the screen and attempting to focus his bloodshot eyes.

 **Stan, 10:38am:**  
had so much fun man LOL, thanks again best birthday ever ill be over later to clean sry again about the couch ☹ .x

“’Sorry again about the couch’,” Louis read the words out loud. “What the fuck does that mean,” he groaned as he typed out his reply.

 **10:39am:**  
what the fuck does that mean, whats wrong with my couch? and why is my pillow covered in glitter

 **Stan, 10:41am:**  
LOL no worries bro! wild times thanks again man LOL see u later .x

Louis stared at Stan’s response, unsure of whether it made no sense because Louis was hungover as shit or because Stan was an idiot. It hurt too much to figure out at the moment, to be honest. 

He tossed his phone onto his pillow and stood up, stretching his arms above his head and feeling his back crack in the process.

Food. He needed food. 

He made his way into the dark hallway, seeing that Liam’s door was still closed and the lights still off behind it. He must not be up yet. Louis smiled to himself, vaguely remembering Liam drunkenly dragging his bicycle in from the balcony very late in the night. He had attempted to ride it through the flat screaming ”RELAY RACE!” while high fiving guests as he passed by. Unfortunately for Liam, their already small flat packed with close to fifty people didn’t lend much space for quality cycling and he ended up unceremoniously toppling headfirst into a floor lamp. He had gone to bed shortly thereafter.

Louis padded along barefoot into the bathroom, the tiles cold on his feet. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror on his way to the toilet, stopping short to do a double take.

“What the fuck?”

He ran his finger along his cheekbone, taking in the glittery outline of a poorly drawn penis, watching as pink sparkles dropped to the counter. Well, at least the mystery of his glitter-pillow was solved. Falling from his skin alongside the glitter were small, white fragments of unknown origin. He frowned and wrinkled his nose, disgusted at the possibilities of what the mystery substance might be.

“Please be glue,” he mumbled as he turned away from his reflection and continued on toward the toilet.

 

******

 

He was feeling slightly more human (only slightly) after his shower and a few bowls of cereal. He slipped into Liam’s room, timing his footsteps across his bedroom floor to the sound of his deep, even snores. Liam snored like a freight train despite being a surprisingly light sleeper. 

Louis stood there, watching his best friend sleep, feeling both pleased and proud that Liam had joined in on last night’s fun. It had been far too long since Louis had seen him knackered to that level. He had forgotten what a funny drunk he was. By funny, he meant embarrassing. Well, embarrassing for Liam. Funny for Louis.

Louis drew a deep breath and launched himself into the air directly toward Liam’s sleeping figure.

“Oii oiiiii!” he shouted as he came down hard on top of Liam, the weight of Louis’ entire body slamming into his midriff. “Get up, get up! It’s the police! Looks like they’re here for a—“ Louis pretended to read from an invisible notepad in his hand while Liam protested and squirmed beneath him, “—for a Mr. Liam Payne… going to be charged with destruction of property and public indecency and intoxication… sentencing hearing to be held at a later date…” 

Liam groaned under Louis, choking as he attempted to catch his breath from where the wind had been knocked out of him. Louis resumed making police siren noises, the volume reaching an almost unbearably annoying level even to his own ears. It was no wonder their neighbors hated them.

“Louis I swear to God, if you don’t get off me in two fucking seconds I’m going to put all of your video games on the top shelf of the bookcase and hide the fucking stepladder so you can’t reach,” Liam hissed, the words tumbling out of his mouth in rapid succession as he struggled to breathe. 

Louis jumped up immediately, horrified by the threat.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

Louis narrowed his eyes down at Liam. He was rubbing his ribcage, trying to soothe where Louis’ elbow had made contact, looking and smelling a bit like death warmed over. 

“Fine,” Louis responded. “If you need me, I’ll be mixing a Bloody Mary in the kitchen.” 

Liam gagged at the mention of alcohol and buried his greasy face into his pillow. 

“Nothing like a bit of the hair of the dog that bit you to get over a hangover, ‘s what mum always says. I’ll whip you one up, too.”

“Please don’t,” Liam begged.

“You’ll thank me,” Louis patted Liam’s shoulder blade. “It’ll make you feel better. Then I’d like to sit on the couch and not move for the rest of the day. Maybe kick your ass in FIFA.”

He climbed off of Liam’s bed and turned to leave the room, nearly reaching the doorway before he heard a soft voice behind him. 

“Louis?” 

“Yeah?” 

“… Any chance I dreamt that incident with the lamp?”

Louis laughed, almost feeling sorry for Liam as he recalled the event – Liam wrapped in the cord with his bicycle on top of one leg, the lampshade bent and damaged on the floor beside his chest. Thank God that memory was crystal clear in his mind. He wanted to get the image tattooed on his face.

“Not a chance, mate.” 

Louis heard Liam groan as he swung the door shut behind him.

 

******  
1.2

THE BEGINNING  
Saturday, April 11, 2015

HARRY  
******

 

“Have a nice Sunday, Barbara!” 

Harry smiled and waved to the kind, wrinkled woman as he walked out of the studio into the sunlight. He was sweaty and smelled disgusting, but he felt invigorated and limber. 

He looked forward to his Saturday morning yoga all week. It felt like he was washing away everything bad from the past five days, reflecting on everything good, and preparing himself for the week to come. He took a sip from his water bottle as he waited on the sidewalk for a break in the traffic before jogging across the street toward his car. 

He climbed in and tossed his gym bag into the backseat, rolling down all four windows while turning up the stereo. Fleetwood Mac’s Greatest Hits poured through his old, shaky speakers. His air conditioning had been acting dodgy for weeks, but the weather outside this morning actually made driving with the windows down enjoyable. The past few days had brought steady rain and, as a result, some very unattractive hairstyles by the time he arrived at work each day. 

His old Honda was nothing fancy and definitely lacked some of the creature comforts of newer vehicles, but Harry had been driving it for almost nine years and was not going to let a little thing like no air conditioning end their relationship. Just a bump in the road… no reason to throw in the towel. 

He smiled at his own genius. Bump in the road. He’d have to tell Niall that one. 

It was really too bad that he had such an emotional attachment to the car. He had always been frugal by nature and didn’t much care for material things, but cars… Harry loved cars. He grew up building model cars as a kid, which had turned into a love for luxury vehicles as an adult. He would probably upgrade substantially after his Honda finally did crap out on him. 

Harry felt a slight pang of guilt in his stomach, as though he had betrayed his current car just by thinking about his potential future one. He patted the dashboard soothingly. 

He adjusted the sweaty bandana wrapped around his head as he threw the car in drive and turned onto the main road. He reached into the backseat and dug through his gym bag one-handedly, fishing out his phone and dialing the first number from his Favorites list. It rang twice before a voice on the other end answered, grumbling a garbled “whyareyoucallingsodamnearly” in lieu of a proper greeting. Harry ignored it.

“What do you call a chicken coop with no doors?” Harry asked happily.

A long-suffering sigh came across the line, followed by silence.

“…A chicken SEDAN!” Harry cackled, literally slapping his knee with glee at his own joke. 

The line promptly went dead. Harry redialed immediately.

“Why’d you hang up?” he said. “That joke was gold! Just came to me during yoga this morning. I always get the greatest joke inspiration during downward dog… I wonder why that is? Do you think it’s something to do with the temperature in the studio and the blood flowing to the brain?” 

There was complete silence for a few beats, followed by a rustling noise on the other end of the line.

“Mate, that joke was shit,” Zayn mumbled. Harry frowned, but at least Zayn sounded more amused than irritated. “Also it’s not even eleven o'clock and it’s a Saturday and you’re calling me. Why.” 

“I will have you know that plenty of people would kill to be woken up by a Styles Original Joke™. Consider yourself lucky. You were supposed to be awake an hour ago, anyway. We are meeting Niall at noon and you were supposed to have the mock-ups for the t-shirt done by then.”

“Ah, shit,” Zayn grumbled. “Okay, I’m getting up now. Give me thirty minutes and I’ll be ready. Can’t promise the same for the shirt, but I’ll try.”

“How have you still not got a rough-draft, at least?” Harry said, exasperated and a bit stressed. “You’ve known about this for ages, I’ve been reminding you every day for the past week--”

“I said I’ll do my best,” Zayn said lazily, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that they were working around a deadline. 

“It doesn’t have to be perfect… just a rough draft to show the printing company. We won’t need the finished product ‘til next week sometime. They just need, like, a couple of days notice to have them ready in time for the gig.”

“I’m not a fucking magician, Harry. I said I’d do what I can. See you in thirty. Also, you better shower if you’re coming from that hot yoga shit. I’m not sitting next to you all afternoon if you reek.” 

Zayn hung up.

Harry pulled into a parking spot in front of his flat and tucked his phone into his gym bag. He took the stairs two at a time, rushing to squeeze in a quick shower and to throw together a sorry excuse for a lunch before heading right back out the door. He was only four minutes late when he pulled into Zayn’s driveway. 

Zayn was still lying in bed when Harry let himself into the house, of course.

“What the…”

Harry scanned the room incredulously, taking in the motionless, half-clothed figure still curled up in the bed. His phone buzzed. 

“It’s Niall. He’s already at the studio. Fuck. Get up and put some clothes on! Did you even try with the shirt? I told you, all we needed right now was a rough draft, have you made any prog-” 

Harry stopped short when he saw a white t-shirt carefully laid out front-side up across Zayn’s drafting table in the corner.

“Holy shit.”

Zayn lazily got to his feet, stretching and pulling on an old jumper that had definitely seen better days. 

“You like it?” he asked nonchalantly, watching as Harry ran his fingers over the colors and design.

“It’s amazing… really, it is. You absolute shit, how long has it been done for?”

“About a week."

“A week… you should have told me! I’ve been texting you every day to remind you. I thought we would be lucky to have it sketched out by now, but this is like, basically finished!” 

Harry beamed at his friend, taking two quick steps with his long legs to get across the room and pull Zayn into a hug. 

“It’s really brilliant. Really. Better than I imagined.”

“Okay, okay, thank you,” Zayn laughed. “No need to get emotional. Although I almost cried at one point while working on it--” 

Harry pulled back and surveyed Zayn, concern furrowing his brow. 

“--after about the eightieth text you sent me reminding me to work on it. You really are a pain in the ass.”

Zayn punched Harry hard in the bicep.

“Oiii!” Harry protested, rubbing the sore spot. “You know I bruise like a peach!” 

He watched as Zayn took a quick look in the mirror, rubbing some sort of product in his hair lazily with one hand, spending zero time and energy and still managing somehow to look like a GQ model. Fucking unfair. 

Zayn grabbed his wallet and keys from his desk.

“Ready,” he said.

Harry’s phone buzzed again. 

**Niall, 11:58pm:**  
where are you???? we are supposed to start at noon, every second counts when you’re on free studio time lets go boys!!!!! don’t make me record this without u HA can u imagine

“Shit, we gotta go. Grab the shirt,” Harry instructed. 

He typed out a quick reply to Niall (“on the way, Zayn’s fault”) and dashed out of Zayn’s room toward the front door, jogging down the steps and into the driveway. He turned as he reached his car to see Zayn meandering around still inside the foyer, moving with all the urgency of a giant slug.

“Seriously? Seriously. Could you move any slower?” Harry asked as Zayn climbed into the passenger seat and clicked his seatbelt into place, totally unconcerned. 

Harry reversed the car out of the driveway.

“Alright. Let’s go make some dreams come true.”

 

******  
1.3

The Beginning  
Sunday, April 12, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

Louis was surprised to find the flat empty when he woke on Sunday morning. Liam was a creature of habit, and Louis could recite Liam’s Sunday morning ritual backward in his sleep: awake by 7 a.m., out the door for a “fun-run” (not a real thing) by 7:15, shower, drink a smoothie, sit on the couch, watch television until noon. Maybe play some FIFA if he was feeling really wild. 

Liam had been going through the exact same set of motions each and every Sunday morning since they signed their lease almost four years ago. Liam was a sure thing, which was why Louis was confused when he emerged from the hallway into the living room to find it empty with the television off. 

He arched his back and reached his arms above his head in a stretch, dropping one hand to his stomach where his shirt rode up to expose bare skin, half-heartedly attempting to stifle a yawn. 

His back cracked loudly in protest as he twisted his torso to stretch his oblique muscles. Jesus, he was getting old. He should probably take up yoga or something. God, that sounded terrible. Pass. He compromised by drinking a glass of water instead. It was disgusting.

As he stood at the faucet watching his water bottle refill, he noticed Liam’s dirty cup in the bottom of the kitchen sink, the remnants of his smoothie still visible on the glass. Interesting. So Liam had accomplished at least some of his Sunday morning activities. Louis hoped he hadn’t been kidnapped. He took his phone out and shot a text to Liam.

 **10:32am:**  
please tell me you were kidnapped  & i can have your TV

He made his way over to the couch and resumed the game of FIFA he had abandoned the night before. He shot a forlorn look at the enormous wine stain on the furthest cushion where it sat deep red and, unfortunately, very permanent. Fucking Stan.

Louis had spent an hour yesterday working on the stain with multiple cleaning products in an attempt to remove it, but the mark had showed no signs of improvement. Louis had tossed a pillow on top of it and decided instead to just hope that no one noticed.

He played FIFA for about an hour before tossing the controller to the side and picking up his phone to browse Twitter. No response from Liam yet, which was definitely strange. Liam always had his phone on him. 

Louis wondered if he should start legitimately worrying. He walked across the room and peered out the window down onto the road, scanning the vacant parking spaces for Liam’s car. He saw it sitting there, parked in Liam’s normal spot in front of Louis’. His heart rate picked up. The car was there, but Liam was not. He had clearly already gone for his run since his smoothie cup was in the sink, so he had no reason to leave again on foot. 

Louis began panicking as different possibilities of what could have happened rushed through his head – men in ski masks breaking in, interrupting Liam relaxing on the couch, dragging him out of the flat and stuffing him into a windowless van. Oh God, he should probably call the police. 

Louis looked back out the window, making absolute certain that it was Liam’s car in the space. Definitely his car. Definitely kidnapped. Definitely shouldn’t have sent that text to Liam about hoping that he was kidnapped since he actually **had** been kidnapped now.

Should he call the police? Would he be a suspect? He wasn’t cut out for jail. 

“….Lou?”

Louis’ head snapped around to see Liam standing in the doorway to the living room, car keys in hand. 

“Oh my God! Thank Christ. Where were you?” Louis yelled across the flat to a very pale, confused looking Liam. “I thought that you had been kidnapped at gunpoint, or knifepoint--”

Liam was staring at Louis, his expression blank.

“--I had this whole scene in my head… there were ski masks... anyway, not important. Why the fuck didn’t you respond to my text?”

Louis crossed his arms over his chest.

“Was at my parents’," Liam said. "Just got back.” 

Liam spoke slowly, clearly distracted as he moved toward the couch behind where Louis stood in front of the window. Louis’ concern shifted from Liam’s safety to his general state of being as he watched him. Something was obviously wrong. Liam’s usually cheery, upbeat demeanor was gone. Liam seemed… not fully present. Detached. 

Louis followed him to the couch and sat beside him, his concern growing as he watched Liam stare blankly ahead. The only other time that he could remember seeing Liam like this was when his family dog had passed away two years ago. Louis braced himself for the worst.

“Li…” he started, speaking softly and unsure of what to do with his hands. Reach out and rub Liam’s back maybe? Hug him? He decided to pick at his cuticles instead. “… Everything alright?”

“Mum and dad called this morning, asked me to come over,” he spoke slowly, still staring at the wall in front of him. “Said they needed to talk to me.”

“Are they alright?” Louis asked, panic rising in his chest. He thought of Liam’s family as his own.

“Oh, yeah, they’re fine…” Liam answered distantly. “You know how my sister’s in town for her friend’s wedding?” 

“Yes,” Louis answered tentatively. Liam had mentioned that Ruth would be visiting this week. "And?"

“Apparently at the reception last night, her friend’s mom – who also happens to be one of my parents’ friends from back in the day but they kind of had a falling out a few years ago because—well, whatever, doesn’t matter – anyway, this woman drank way too much champagne and made a comment to Ruth--” 

“And…” Louis prompted again, confused about where this could be headed.

“--and apparently she asked my sister if she and I have ever considered looking into finding our brother.” 

Louis stared at Liam. He was more confused now than before.

“Uh… not trying to be insensitive mate, really, but I feel like I’m missing something here,” Louis said as he cracked his knuckles in an attempt to loosen up. He was on edge. “What brother?”

“My sister came home drunk from the reception and confronted my parents about it,” Liam pursed his lips and shook his head slightly as he spoke. “They called me over there this morning to tell me. Wanted me to hear it from all of them. Apparently, we have a brother.” 

Liam looked at Louis for the first time since sitting on the couch. Louis looked back at him like he had three heads. 

“An older brother. Mum and dad had him three years before they had me, but they placed him for adoption.”

Louis stared at Liam, totally at a loss for words, his brain scrambling. What is the proper behavioral protocol for your best friend finding out after twenty-three years that he has a brother he never knew about? What does one do? What does one say?

“I have no fucking clue what to say,” Louis had always felt honesty was the best policy, anyway. “I am… are you alright? What did you say? Do you need, like, a hug? Or a joint, maybe?” 

Liam seemed to consider his question for a moment before looking away from Louis to stare ahead again. 

“I’m… fine?” 

The words came out as more of a question than a statement. 

“I mean, I know that is weird, right? I should be angry? But I’m just… not? I’m actually kind of… I’m kind of excited, to be honest.” 

A small smile tugged at the corners of Liam’s mouth as he dropped his gaze to the floor in front of him. 

“I mean, I am pissed at my parents, like, really pissed," Liam said, "they should have fucking told us a long time ago, but I have a brother. Growing up, I had always wished I’d had an older brother. I mean, it’s a little late, but better late than never right?”

Liam shot a quick sideways glance at Louis before directing his smile toward the floor.

“I mean… a proper brother. Crazy, huh?”

Louis was feeling at least seven hundred different emotions all at once, so it took him a couple of seconds for him to register that Liam was happy about this and that he should react accordingly.

He arranged his face into a grin and obnoxiously jumped on Liam’s back from his side of the couch, tackling him to the floor. Liam shrieked and laughed, surprised by the attack. Louis forced the small pangs of jealousy creeping up from his stomach and into his chest back down to where they came from. He could process that later. For now, he just needed to support his friend.

“Crazy is an understatement,” Louis laughed. “That is seriously some of the craziest shit I have ever heard. I am so happy for you, man.” 

Louis genuinely meant that, despite the unhappy feeling he was struggling to stifle at the moment. He loved Liam more than anything, knew Liam better than anyone. He could see how excited Liam was. Louis just wanted to see his friend happy. 

“I am so, so happy for you. Are you going to look for him?” 

He climbed off of Liam, allowing him to catch his breath and sit back on the couch. 

“Yeah, I think I am. Apparently my parents have the names of his adoptive parents and his name, so hopefully I will be able to find him that way. Said they always planned on telling my sister and I – they were just waiting for the right time – but it never ‘felt right,’” Liam mimed air quotes along with the words, “whatever that means.”

“Ah, yes, and then the right time came along organically when a miserable old gossip got wasted and told your sister. How lucky. I’m sure that’s exactly as they’d envisioned it happening,” Louis said. 

He spoke the words sarcastically, hoping to keep Liam’s mood lifted. He hated seeing him distressed and his behavior earlier truly scared him. No more of that, thanks. Liam smiled.

“Yeah, definitely not the way my parents had planned on us finding out, I don’t think. But, fuck, it’s out now, I guess.”

“So, what’s your first move?” Louis settled back into the couch. “How are you planning on finding this person? Does Mystery Brother have a name?” 

As Louis spoke, the feelings that he was attempting to ignore became harder to push aside. He was feeling jealous. Worse than that, he was feeling jealous toward a person he’d never even met. Worse even than that, he was feeling jealous over something that Liam was really happy about.

The reality of the situation began to sink in. A **real** brother for Liam. 

Louis had always thought of Liam as his brother. He’d always assumed Liam felt the same. The only boy in a house full of girls growing up, Louis’ friendship with Liam had been his salvation. They had known each other since primary school, when Liam’s family moved onto Louis’ street. They had become fast friends despite the two year age difference. Liam had always been mature for his age, anyway.

They had a shared lifetime of memories together like actual, real, proper brothers. Playing in the creek behind the neighborhood, building forts, playing on footie teams together, discovering girls together, undiscovering girls together, discovering boys together, living together at Uni, graduating and entering the real world together. 

Louis loved Liam like an actual, real brother. He tried not to think about an **actual** actual, **real** real brother coming into the picture and replacing him. Selfish thoughts, he scolded himself, as he watched Liam’s face break into another smile. 

“I’m thinking I’ll try to find him on Facebook?” Liam said. “Everyone in their twenties has a Facebook, right? And then maybe… message him? I don’t know. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to find him. I need to lower my expectations.”

“It does seem a bit too easy,” Louis said gently, “but I don’t see the harm in taking a quick peek on Facebook just in case. Maybe we can just find him that way… any idea where he lives? What’s his name?” 

Louis kind of hated him already.

“No clue where he lives. Could be anywhere. All I know is that his parents lived in London when they adopted him, but that was a long time ago. They might’ve moved since then.”

Louis pulled out his phone and loaded the Facebook app, immediately heading for the Search tool. 

“Name?” he asked. 

Louis forced himself to appear equally as excited as Liam as he searched for the man who was going to swoop in and steal his best friend from him, effectively ruining his life forever. He plastered a smile on his face. 

Liam’s face broke into a wide grin as he answered.

“Harry Styles.”

 

******  
1.4

THE BEGINNING  
Sunday, April 12, 2015

HARRY  
******

 

“I think that one was the best yet!” Harry called out as he gently placed his guitar on the floor beside him. “It sounded pretty good, right? Zayn, that final note… you nailed it mate, sounded amazing. Not gonna lie, I was a little worried when you mentioned changing it up, but it sounded… it sounded like, professional.”

“Thanks, man. Think we’ll be ready by next Saturday,” Zayn said. 

Harry watched as he walked across the room and plopped down heavily into an overstuffed armchair in the corner, a puff of dust exploding into the air around him. Harry stood from his seat on the floor and stretched his aching back. He had sat cross-legged for over an hour as they had run straight through their set list. He heard his spine crack twice. He needed to make an appointment to get adjusted. Maybe tomorrow.

“Hopefully. Kind of nervous, if I’m being honest,” Harry said. 

He picked up Zayn’s drumsticks from the stool beside him and tossed them into his lap as he walked past. Zayn lay sprawled out lazily in the chair, looking like he could fall asleep already despite having only sat down five seconds ago. He had a real gift for that.

“Oh, hey, I came up with a great new joke today!”

Zayn groaned and launched one of the drumsticks directly toward Harry’s face. He ducked out of the way just in time to avoid taking it to the eye and likely being blinded for life. He cleared his throat.

“How can you tell if a drummer is at your door?” 

Total silence enveloped the room. Neither Niall nor Zayn seemed to be particularly eager to hear the answer. 

“Come on! It’s good, I swear. How do you know a drummer’s at your door?”

Niall laughed loudly as he leaned down to unplug his amp despite not even having heard the punch line yet. 

“Dunno, how?”

“The knocking speeds up!” 

Harry barked out a laugh and clapped his hand over his mouth. Zayn’s face remained totally unchanged and unimpressed. Niall laughed loudly but his brow was furrowed, clearly confused.

“Bro, do you even get it?” Zayn asked.

“Yeah!” Niall said as he rearranged his face into a confident smile. “Good one, Harry. I’ll have to remember that one.”

“You have absolutely no idea, do you?” Harry asked, a warm smile spreading over his face. 

Niall always laughed at Harry’s jokes no matter how corny and despite not understanding at least half of them.

“Not a clue,” he answered. 

Harry laughed as he gently laid his guitar into its case as Niall did the same with his own on the other side of the room. He leaned down to pick up the drumstick that Zayn had thrown at him, placing it gently back in Zayn’s lap next to its sister. 

Zayn never helped clean up the already messy, dingy attic after a band practice, but then again, it _was_ his house. Harry figured if he wanted it messy, that was his right. Still, for how much time they had been spending in here recently, he felt like sprucing the place up a bit wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. A few flowers never hurt anyone. Maybe paint some of the old, wood paneling on the walls, throw some curtains up around the small window.

Harry had been watching a lot of interior design shows, lately. He could probably do it for less than a hundred pounds.

He leaned down to pick his jacket up from where it lay crumpled on the rug, eyeing a suspicious ball of what appeared to be pet hair on the floor beside it. Zayn owned no animals. He gave his jacket a quick dusting off for good measure.

Niall and Zayn were talking excitedly about yesterday’s studio session as Harry rummaged around in the pocket of his jacket for his phone. They were all still buzzing from scoring a few hours of free studio time yesterday to finally record a demo, all thanks to their friend Ed. Ed owned a pub up the road and had a handful of friends in the industry. He had been able to call in a favor for them with someone he had met through work, and they had made the most of the short session to record their two best originals and one cover. 

Harry unlocked his phone screen to discover two text messages from his mom and sister Gemma, along with a private Facebook message from a name he didn’t recognize. 

“Liam Payne,” he muttered. 

He opened the message and began reading as Niall launched into an animated and, frankly, horribly performed impression of the Russian man who owned the studio. Their laughter faded into the back of his mind as Harry read the words, his heart rate picking up and a strange feeling settling in his stomach as he reached the end of the message. 

He wasn’t sure how long it had been since Niall and Zayn had stopped talking, but after his third time rereading it, he looked up to find both men staring at him curiously. He looked back down at the phone in his hand, then back up to the two of them helplessly.

“I…” Harry started, speaking even slower than usual. “I just got a Facebook message.” 

Niall’s confused face morphed into an easy smile. 

“Oh, that’s great man! Congratulations.” 

Zayn shot his eyes sideways at Niall, conveying a look that clearly said “idiot” without actually needing words. Niall must have missed it as he continued to smile genuinely at Harry. 

“I love getting messages from people. Always brightens my day.” 

Zayn shook his head slowly and disappointedly in Niall’s direction before looking back to Harry.

“From who?” 

Harry looked back down at his phone and cleared his throat. Yes, from who, exactly? A crazy person, maybe? A practical joker? A prankster? Or maybe someone who is just very unlucky, looking for someone and finding Harry instead?

Or, maybe… 

Harry allowed himself to consider the last option, the implications of what it would mean settling heavily in his chest. Surely not, but maybe…

“He says he is my brother.” 

The two men stared at him, Niall finally catching up to speed on the situation. 

“What?”

“Yeah, the message is from someone named Liam,” Harry explained. “He says he thinks he might be my brother. Apparently he just found out that he has a brother a few years older than him that his parents placed for adoption twenty-seven years ago. They gave him a name and birthday to use to start looking and he just… just plopped them into the Facebook search bar… and I popped up…” 

Harry looked back down at his phone, trying to process the emotions running through him all at the same time. Shock, excitement, fear, hope.

He had always known that there was a possibility that this day would come. He had wondered about his birth family often over the years. That was a pretty normal thing for any adopted child. He had even considered trying to track them down himself a handful of times, but in the end he had always decided against it. He had a great life with his mum and Gemma and had always felt that it would be a bit selfish to them by going down that path. He never wanted his mum or his sister to feel like he was unhappy with their life together. 

He hadn’t wanted to put his birth parents in that position either. It was entirely possible that they did not want a relationship with him. He had even considered this exact scenario – the possibility that his birth parents could have had other children who are unaware of Harry’s existence, and reaching out would put them in the uncomfortable or unfair position of feeling as though they needed to tell their kids before they intended to or were ready to. 

Harry had considered all of this. He had considered it quite a lot, actually. He had just never followed through. He didn’t want to complicate anyone’s life.

But now, right this very moment, his potential brother was reaching out to him. 

It could be nothing. It could be a misunderstanding, and this Liam person could have contacted the wrong Harry Styles. The wrong Harry Styles who, coincidentally, just happened to be adopted in London twenty-seven years earlier and who, also coincidentally, happened to share a birthday with the right Harry Styles. It was _possible_. He also felt like it was very unlikely.

Excitement. 

“Holy shit, Harry, that’s… that’s amazing!” Niall said as he ran across the room, jumping onto Harry and pulling him into a bear hug. Harry busted out laughing. “That is amazing, mate! They found you! Holy shit!” 

Niall tightened his arm around Harry’s neck, using his other hand to completely dishevel Harry’s hair. Harry felt a surge of gratitude for his friend; always there to support him with the most over-the-top show of affection. He heard Zayn get up from his chair and move across the room toward where they stood, still entwined.

“That’s so great, man,” Zayn said, clasping his hand onto Harry’s shoulder and squeezing. 

Zayn wasn’t nearly as tactile as either Niall or Harry, but was an amazing and supportive friend nonetheless. Where Niall provided physical comfort with his presence, Zayn provided steady support to Harry in other ways. He was a rock; perceptive to Harry’s feelings and always willing to listen when he needed to talk. He had a real talent for knowing when to give advice and when to simply sit and provide quiet support as a sounding board for Harry’s problems or ideas. 

Harry had gotten so, so lucky in the Best Friend Draft. 

He laughed and pulled away from Niall’s hug, reminding himself to never take either of these people for granted.

“Thank you both, really. I… I am in shock, I think,” Harry laughed. “I think I need a beer. Where can I get a beer at noon on a Sunday?” 

He wiped at a spot of wetness at the corner of his eye. He definitely was not crying. (He definitely was.) 

“I’m definitely not crying, by the way. Just got stabbed in the eye with one of Niall’s bangs.”

He grinned at his two friends, letting himself fill to the brim with every emotion coursing through his body. Excitement. Fear. Hope.

“We could go to Ed’s," Niall suggested. "He might not be there, but you know whoever is working the bar will comp our drinks as soon as they hear the good news."

Harry smiled and nodded as he half-heartedly gathered up the rest of his shit, not really caring if he got everything or not. Zayn headed for the door, grabbing his wallet and keys on his way out.

“Alright then. Time to celebrate,” Zayn said. “Grab your stuff and let’s get a move on. And don’t leave my attic in a mess like you lot did after the last practice.” 

Harry had to make a truly focused effort not to roll his eyes. Literally the entire mess was Zayn’s own things, but he was too happy to argue that point at the moment. Mental note: remind Zayn about it at their next practice.

“So what are you gonna do? You gonna respond?” Niall asked as they walked down the attic stairs and out the front door toward Zayn’s car. “What are you gonna say?” 

Harry had read the message over ten times by now, yet realized he had not given any thought to what he would say back. His response would change Liam’s life forever – hopefully for the better – but still, a change nonetheless. He needed to take that seriously when writing back.

“Honestly,” Harry said as he piled into the passenger side of Zayn’s Range Rover, “I have no idea.”

 

*******  
Tuesday, April 14, 2015  
*******

Harry read the message from Liam at least a dozen times over the course of the next two days. With nothing to distract him at work other than the ever-growing, very boring pile of cases needing his review, his mind wandered to what he should say back when he responded. 

**When** he responded. He _was_ going to respond. He had definitely decided that much, at least.

Harry had spent a few too many hours and had a few too many beers at Ed’s pub on Sunday after receiving Liam’s message. Niall and Zayn had insisted on round after round and before he knew it, it was after eight o’clock. He had left and headed straight to his mum’s house. He was buzzed and needed to talk.

Harry had walked through the door to find Anne and Gemma sat on the couch, waiting for him to arrive. At least he’d had the decency to send a warning text on his way over so that they would be expecting him. He had, however, failed to mention his current state of mild intoxication. Minor details.

He had plopped down between them on the cushions and immediately blurted everything out as one long, flowing string of consciousness. They had both been great about it, of course. Not that he expected anything else. Harry had gotten so lucky with them. 

“Sweetheart, that’s wonderful,” Anne had said tearfully, pulling Harry into a hug. “Really love, you must be so excited. Have you responded yet?”

Harry had hugged her tight, his heart swelling with thankfulness and love toward this woman who had always been his rock – the only mother he’d ever known. He smiled into her hair, taking a deep breath and smelling the comforting and familiar fragrance of her shampoo. 

“Not yet,” he had responded, speaking slowly. “Still thinking of what to say. It’s kind of a big deal so I feel like it kind of deserves a big response.” 

“Don’t you think you might be over thinking it a bit?” Gemma had asked from beside him on the couch. “I mean, obviously it’s a big deal and all, but he reached out to you. He must want to know you. Seems like it would be kind of hard to fuck that up, no matter how you respond.” 

She had lightly punched Harry in the arm before tucking herself tight into his side. 

“Happy for you, though, brother.”

Harry had wrapped one arm around his sister and gave her shoulder a quick squeeze while planting a kiss on her forehead. 

“Thanks, both of you. Really. Means a lot to me that you’re cool with this.”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Anne had asked. “You’re twenty-seven years old, more than old enough to decide that you’re ready to do this. We will support you whatever you decide. And Gemma, no need to use such foul language.” 

Gemma had rolled her eyes and fallen back into her seat. 

“I agree with her, though,” Anne had said softly. “Don’t worry too much about how you respond. I’m sure he will just be thrilled to hear from you.”

Harry had left that night with a weight lifted from his shoulders. The one thing – well, maybe not the _one_ thing, but the _main_ thing – that had always deterred him from venturing down this path in the past was the idea that maybe it would cause pain to the people he loved most. Having their blessing made him feel light; excited for whatever was going to come and knowing that they would be beside him, supporting him, whatever happened.

So Harry had read Liam’s message again and again over the next forty-eight hours, typing out responses only to get frustrated and delete them. Tuesday afternoon, Harry came entirely too close to accidentally sending one unfinished message when his boss had walked by in the middle of him typing a particularly terrible knock-knock joke about adoption. 

Harry had actually typed “adoption jokes” into the Google search bar in a last-ditch effort to lighten the mood of his latest draft. He wanted his response to Liam to somehow convey how excited Harry was to get Liam’s message, while also playing it cool enough to not seem over-eager about the situation, while also showing Liam how absolutely hilarious he is. Simple enough.

He was just about to type the (horrible) punch line when his boss had surprised him, seemingly emerging out of nowhere. He had a real knack for that.

“Been on that phone a bit too much today for my liking, Styles,” Simon joked. “What am I even paying you for?” 

Harry had startled and jumped, very nearly accidentally pressing Send. Simon had laughed as he walked past Harry’s desk and into his office. His heart rate was through the roof and his face was flushed. He heard a low chuckle from the cube next to him.

“Shut the fuck up, Grimmy,” Harry had mumbled, deleting the message and stuffing the phone back into his pocket. 

He had loosened the knot of his tie and inhaled deeply a few times. He hated being startled. Harry also hated being reprimanded by Simon, even if he was joking. 

Grimmy continued to laugh under his breath, just loud enough to be heard over the sounds of typing from the surrounding cubes. Harry had picked up a pen and thrown it at his head.

Thankfully it was five o’clock now and he finally had a message to Liam typed out that he felt reasonably good about. He walked to his car and climbed into the passenger seat, tossing his briefcase onto the seat beside him and immediately rolling down the windows. 

He pulled his tie off and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt, cracking his neck to either side. Jesus, it was hot. He should probably get his air conditioning fixed at some point. 

He pulled his phone out and reread the message, checking it for spelling or grammatical errors for the thirtieth time before pressing Send. He slowly let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. 

Harry backed the car out of the parking space as Stevie Nicks’ voice poured through the speakers. Well, it’s done now. Sent. Whatever happens, it’s done. He felt good – light, bright, breezy. 

He turned the volume up and pulled onto the main road, heading toward his flat. 

 

******  
1.5

THE BEGINNING  
Tuesday, April 14, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

“Seriously, again?” 

Louis heard Liam’s voice before he actually saw his body emerge into the living room. He must have recognized the music as soon as he had opened the front door. 

“How many times can one person watch the same bloody movie before it legitimately drives them mad? Or, worse, drives their completely innocent housemate mad?” Liam asked as he tossed his keys onto the table in the entryway.

Louis scowled at him from his spot on the couch, sprawled out and taking up all three seats. Liam sat down heavily in the armchair to his left.

“Well, aren’t we cranky,” Louis snapped. 

He pressed Pause on the remote. There was no way he was going to miss his favorite scene just because Liam could not appreciate the cinematic masterpiece that is Grease. Some people, honestly. No taste. No taste at all.

“Ugh, sorry. I need a beer. Long day,” Liam groaned, rising from the chair and walking toward the refrigerator. “One of the kids puked all over the front of Rapunzel’s tower. We just spent an entire week painting that. An entire fucking week. Want one?” 

He held a beer up questioningly in Louis’ direction.

“Nah, got one already. Been… er, hydrating… since about 3:00, m’self,” Louis teased. “Perks of a flexible work schedule and all. It’s what happens when you climb the corporate ladder and become as important and influential as I am.” 

Liam laughed as he closed the refrigerator door and walked back into the living room.

“No worries, Payno,” Louis said sarcastically. “You’ll get there someday, I’m sure. We can’t all be superstars. Some of us are destined for greatness, others have to work at it. Your time will come.” 

Liam shot Louis a long-suffering look as he sunk back down into the chair and pressed Play. Louis hummed along as Danny and Sandy sang You’re The One That I Want. Classic scene. Great movie. 

In reality, Louis’ “flexible” work schedule was less due to his “very important” role at the office and more due to the fact that, for the most part, no one really noticed whether Louis was there or not. He had thought that landing a job within the music industry at one of the most well known labels in London would be his big break, even if that job had been as an Administrative Assistant. Who cared? Just a way to get his foot in the door and work his way up. 

That being said, at the time he was hired, if you had asked him to describe his vision for his career trajectory, Louis definitely would not have said he would still be going for coffee runs and filing papers and making copies a full two years later. But, alas, here he was.

At least he could slip out early unnoticed a couple of days a week. There’s a perk. Yay.

Louis took a sip of his beer as Liam rolled his head from side to side and stretched his muscles. Louis could tell he was stressed. It had been two days since Liam had sent the message to Harry Styles from Facebook, and no response as of yet. 

Louis had truly thought that they had found the right guy, too. Their search results had been surprisingly slim once they had added birthday into the mix. Louis was about to ask Liam if he’d heard anything today (even though he already knew the answer – Liam would have contacted him immediately if he’d received a response) when he saw Liam’s phone light up and buzz on the coffee table in front of him. 

“Uh, Li?” Louis said. “I think you’ve got yourself a message there.”

Liam’s head snapped up from where it was resting on the back of the chair. He dove toward his phone and swiped to unlock the screen. 

“It’s from Harry,” he said, not elaborating further.

Louis felt his heart rate quicken. He wasn’t sure why _he_ felt nervous; it wasn’t like he was the one receiving a message from his possibly long-lost secret brother. But it kind of felt like it was. Liam was his family. He was nervous for him. 

Louis knew how much Liam wanted this to be the right Harry Styles, and for this Harry Styles to be equally as enthusiastic about connecting with Liam as Liam was enthusiastic about connecting with Harry. Unfortunately, Louis’ perception of the general population was much more jaded than Liam’s. Many people – possibly most people, even – were shitty. Liam was one of the good ones. Louis didn’t want to see him disappointed if Harry wanted nothing to do with him.

He watched silently as Liam’s eyes scanned the message. His face broke into a huge grin, and Louis felt a sense of relief tentatively begin to creep its way in. Smiling. Definitely a good sign.

“Well?” Louis asked as he threw a pillow at Liam’s head. “What does it say? Out with it.”

“Oh my God, it’s him,” Liam responded. His smile was so big it looked painful. “Want me to read it to you?”

“No shit."

Liam cleared his throat and began reading.

Liam,

Wow. I’m not sure what to say that would be appropriate here, so I’m just going to stick with ‘wow’ for now. I think, and I’m sure there are better, more science-y ways to confirm this, but based on the evidence I’ve collected and what you’re saying, I think you’ve got the right guy. I am Harry Styles. I am twenty-seven years old. I was born on February 1 in London. And, probably the most important detail, I am adopted.

I actually got the last name of my birth parents a few years ago, and you’re a match there, too. Payne. 

So, now that we’ve got that out of the way… where do we go from here? (Maybe to get a DNA test done just to be sure? Ha-ha, just kidding. Kind of.)

Do you have a phone number? Maybe we could talk, not over Facebook messenger? Honestly, I only get on here every few weeks to check for new pictures of my baby cousins. I’d prefer to text, if you’re ok with that? 

Let me know. I am really, really glad you found me. Thank you.

All the love,  
Harry

Liam looked up, still smiling as he flipped the phone around toward Louis for him to see. 

“It’s really him,” Louis repeated, allowing the words to sink in as he spoke. “Like, really really him, like you have an actual, really real brother.” 

Liam smiled even bigger at the words. Louis reciprocated, standing and walking over to his friend, pulling him into a hug. 

“A real, actual human, living, breathing brother. Who, from the sounds of that message, is a total dweeb and almost as weird as you are.” 

Liam laughed.

“Sounds like it,” he responded. 

Louis released him from the hug, reaching a hand up to fidget with his fringe. Again, Louis registered that very subtle, very annoying pang of jealousy creeping into his stomach. 

So, Harry was real. There was going to be a Harry in Liam’s life where a Louis had previously been. What if that Harry was better than Louis? Louis and Liam were similar in enough ways that their friendship had worked, but they were also very different people. 

What if Harry and Liam really hit it off and there was no room for Louis anymore? What if Harry was willing to get up on Sunday mornings and go for terrible, horrible, hot, pointless jogs with Liam? What if they liked the same movies and went to the cinema while leaving Louis at home? What if—

“Lou?” Liam asked, looking questioningly up at him. “…you there?”

Louis shook his head slightly. Get your shit together. Happy for your friend. Happy. Big smile. Happy days.

“Of course, sorry, happy days, Li,” Louis recovered. “Just a lot to take in, is all. You’ve got like, a real brother now. A proper brother, I mean.” 

Louis hoped that his insecurity wasn’t showing through his over-confident words. He didn’t want Liam to feel guilty about such an amazing thing. Louis felt guilty for feeling jealous, and that was not Liam’s fault. 

Liam must have sensed something was off, though, because he stood up and pulled Louis into a tight hug.

“You know you’ve always been a brother to me,” he said, squeezing Louis tightly. 

Louis squirmed a bit, but stayed put in the hug. He had never been great at sharing feelings – was genuinely awful at taking compliments – and he usually felt a bit uncomfortable when Liam got sentimental. He powered through. 

“Thanks, Li. You’ve always been like a brother to me, too,” Louis answered quietly.

“No, not _like_ a brother, Louis,” Liam patted him on the back. “You have always been a brother to me. Period. I’m not getting a ‘real’ brother, I’m getting another brother. You’re my family. Nothing will change that.” 

He released Louis and dropped his eyes to the floor. Louis cleared his throat and distractedly fixed his fringe, looking for something to do with his hands.

“Thanks, Liam. Means a lot. Ditto, by the way.” 

Louis took a sip of his beer and sat back down, feeling much better despite the embarrassment still evident in the flush on his cheeks. Liam smiled and picked his phone back up, fingers moving across the screen. 

“You responding?”

“Yeah, gonna send him my number. I’d rather text, too,” Liam said. "There. Sent."

Liam sat his phone back on the table, grinning as he picked his own beer up and took a drink. 

“So, are you going to restart Grease for me or what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it! Feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice.


	2. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis meets Harry. Harry meets Louis.
> 
> They're both in trouble.

******  
2.1

THE MEETING  
Wednesday, April 22, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

Louis followed Liam into the small but bright café, the bell on the door tinkling softly as it closed behind him. 

He felt a small surge of pride toward Liam as he watched his eyes dart around in search of Harry. Louis knew that he was far more nervous than he was letting on; his shoulders steady but his hand giving him away, trembling slightly where it rested against his outer thigh. 

Louis sidled up to Liam’s right side and rested a reassuring hand between his shoulder blades. As they stood in the doorway scanning the lunchtime crowd, it dawned on Louis that they had no idea what they were looking for.

“Shit,” Louis mumbled to Liam. “You probably should have asked him what he’d be wearing or something, or maybe told him to hold up a sign with ‘LIAM’ on it like drivers do at airports…” 

“I know, I’ve been so worked up about this since we made these plans that I didn’t even think about it,” Liam responded. “I have no idea what he looks like. He might not even be here yet.” 

Liam drifted a few steps to his left, pursing his lips as he scanned the crowd. Louis stood on his tiptoes and craned his neck, trying to see into the back corner of the restaurant. 

Of course, they wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with if Harry’s Facebook profile picture had just shown his face like a normal person. After Liam had received Harry’s response confirming he had found the right Harry, Louis had spent nearly half an hour persuading Liam that it wasn’t that creepy to Facebook stalk him a little bit. 

Louis had clicked Harry’s name to pull up his profile, revealing… basically nothing. His main picture was a large tree taken through a black and white filter. It looked like it had been shot from an angle which led Louis to believe that Harry must have laid flat on the ground at the base of the trunk and pointed the camera directly up into the canopy. Louis had groaned and rolled his eyes at the caption. No such green.

“Well no shit ‘no such green,’” he said aloud to Liam. “You chose a black and white filter, mate. Tends to block out the colors.” 

Liam had shot Louis a sideways look, effectively silencing him. Fine, then. No mocking the long-lost brother out loud, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t mock him internally. ‘No such green.’ What does that even mean? 

Louis hated these new-age hipster types. He saw far too many of them while sitting in on gigs for local bands around town, ordering craft beer and wearing faded jeans full of holes that cost nearly half his month’s rent with flannel shirts and big, tortoise-shell glasses. They all fancied themselves photographers because they took artsy pictures of nature on their iPhones and slapped a filter or two on them. 

Louis and Liam had scrolled through what they could see of Harry’s profile, but that proved to be relatively useless. All of his photos were black and white, none of which seemed to contain actual human life and all of which had vague, nondescript, seemingly meaningless captions. Louis had gotten bored after about five minutes. 

He leaned back into the couch cushions while Liam continued to browse and sipped his beer lazily. After a few moments passed and Liam was taking a second lap through Harry’s pointless pictures, Louis began chucking M&Ms at the computer screen. Half an hour later he was still creeping through this person’s profile and they were no closer to knowing anything of value about who Harry Styles was.

It had been just over a week since then, and Liam had been in touch with Harry nearly every day since. They mainly used text, but they had had a few phone conversations and finally arranged to meet in up person when they had spoken earlier in the week. Liam had been ecstatic to find out that Harry still lived in London after all these years. 

Louis knew absolutely nothing about Harry outside of what little information Liam had shared with him. Granted, it had been a busy week with footie and work and an impromptu trip to Doncaster to see his family, so Louis had not been around to even ask Liam anything beyond, “Talk to Harry today? Things still going good?”

So here they stood in the doorway of this café like a pair of idiots, completely lost and looking for someone they had never seen. Did he have brown hair like Liam, or was it some other crazy color like red or blonde? Was he short, tall, chubby, thin? Would he be here alone, or could he have brought a friend along as well? 

Louis was debating just going table by table and asking the guests one by one if they were Harry. It was then that he felt Liam move beside him, his hand wrapping around Louis’ upper arm, grip firm. 

“I think that’s him,” Liam said, motioning toward a table in the furthest corner of the restaurant. 

Louis’ gaze drifted over the tables and settled on a man seated alone on the opposite side of the room, looking toward the two of them expectantly, eyes locked on Louis. 

“Fuck,” Louis breathed, not quite loud enough for Liam to hear. “Fuuuuck.” 

Louis crossed his fingers and silently repeated the words pleasedon’tbeHarry in his mind while Liam motioned something with his hands toward the man, attempting to confirm his identity. Pleasedon’tbeHarry.

“It’s him,” Liam said. Of fucking course it was. Louis looked at him to see him beaming. “Pretty good at reading lips, it would seem. Let’s go.” 

Liam took off in the direction of the table. Of course it was Harry. Of fucking course the hottest guy in this café was Harry. One of the hottest guys Louis had ever seen in person, actually. This person crafted straight from one of Louis’ wet dreams was his best friend’s brand new brother. Of course.

Harry was hot. Really hot. Beautiful face, broad shoulders, lean and muscular but somehow soft. Louis had always preferred beefcakes, but Harry… Harry somehow managed to be big and fit but also long and lean but also somehow slender and slight. It didn’t make sense. 

His clothes were not Louis’ usual preference, but he found that he liked those, too. Harry looked business casual in black slacks, a white dress shirt and a black, skinny tie. He should have been expecting that considering it was lunch hour on a workday, but the slightly formal attire still threw him off at first. On anyone else, Louis would call it boring. On Harry, it was just hot. 

Louis’ eyes moved up Harry’s broad chest and settled on his face. His skin showed the faint beginnings of a suntan. His brown, curly hair was styled up into a ridiculously tall and messy quiff. Louis made a mental note to ask him what products he used to keep it standing upright despite its long length. He would be purchasing ASAP. Harry’s lips were pink – so pink that Louis vaguely wondered if he was wearing lip-gloss. 

He locked eyes with Harry. Big. His eyes were very, very big. Shit.

Louis took a steadying breath, reminding himself that this person was technically a blood relative of his best friend and was, therefore, most definitely off-limits. He fell into step behind Liam as they made their way toward the back of the café.

“…You are Harry, right?” Liam asked tentatively as they reached the table. 

Harry was already standing with his hand outstretched by the time Louis arrived behind Liam.

“I am,” he responded. Louis watched a huge, bright smile overtake his face as Liam gripped Harry’s hand in his own and shook it. “Are you Liam?” 

Harry’s eyes darted from Liam questioningly toward where Louis stood a few steps behind his friend. He had hung back intentionally, wanting to give Liam a bit of space when meeting Harry for the first time. This was his day, after all.

“I am,” Liam responded. Harry returned his gaze to Liam and somehow widened his already enormous grin. “And this is Louis, my best mate.” 

Liam gestured over his shoulder toward Louis. He took a step forward, meeting Harry’s eyes. 

Shit. They were green. So, so green. No such green, he thought. Shit. Harry was looking at Louis with a strange expression as he took Louis’ hand in his own. Jesus, his hands were big. Like catcher’s mitts, completely enveloping Louis’ small fingers as they shook hello. Shit. One of his hands would probably cover one of Louis’ entire ass cheeks.

“Nice to meet you, Louis,” Harry said through his smile. 

Louis was enraptured with the way Harry’s mouth moved as he spoke, smile big and face expressive. The look he was giving Louis unsettled him a bit, snapping him out of his thoughts and making him worry for a moment that he had been too obvious with his ogling of Harry. Louis cleared his throat softly before responding.

“Likewise, mate,” he said, attempting to sound casual. “And don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your way, just here for moral support and to make sure you weren’t actually a serial killer.” 

Louis clapped one hand to Liam’s back. Harry chuckled. 

“One can never be too safe, you know.”

“Don’t think you need to worry about that. I’m glad you brought a friend!” Harry said to Liam. “I should have thought of that.” 

Harry seemed genuinely annoyed that he hadn’t come up with the same idea himself. He sat down, gesturing toward the seats across the table for Louis and Liam. Louis noticed that Harry had already ordered lunch – a salad and a banana laid in front of him, next to a glass of what looked like radioactive green sludge.

“What is that monstrosity you’ve ordered?” Louis asked before he could stop himself, gesturing toward Harry’s drink, disgust plain in his voice. 

Liam’s foot made contact with Louis’ shin under the table, prompting him to curse under his breath. Harry didn’t seem bothered as he laughed and picked up the glass to take a long sip from the straw.

“It’s a kale smoothie. They make the best kale smoothies here,” Harry said with conviction. 

Louis’ face twisted into an expression of pure horror at the word ‘kale,’ prompting another kick under the table from Liam. 

“They put apples and bananas in it and add a handful of spinach to cut the bitterness of the kale… oh, sorry, do you want one? I should have thought to order you both one…” 

Harry spoke excitedly as he waved his arm, attempting to flag down one of the servers at a nearby table. Louis got distracted watching his huge hands work as they tried to attract the attention of the waitress. His fingers were so long. So, so long. 

“They can also do a great carrot and beet juice if you prefer something a little less green,” Harry said as the server approached. 

The word ‘beet’ snapped Louis out of his love-struck stupor, his eyes darting up frantically from Harry’s hands, horror overtaking his face once again as the waitress arrived next to him. Harry’s mouth opened as he prepared to order a beverage conjured straight out of one of Louis’ nightmares.

“No, no, no beets, no, Jesus Christ no, I mean… no thank you, but no, hell no,” Louis tripped over the words as they spilled out. “I think my body would literally shut down if I tried to ingest that shit.” 

Harry dropped his arm and shot Louis a questioning look across the table. 

“Just a Pepsi and a… double bacon cheeseburger for me,” Louis told their server.

He glanced back toward Harry, whose face echoed the same disgust Louis had felt at the word ‘kale’ earlier. 

“Thank you, though. But no thanks. Very, very no thanks. Big no. Thanks.” Shit.

“Pepsi and a double bacon cheeseburger,” Harry said, smirking across the table at Louis as Liam ordered his own food. 

Harry sat his glass down on the table and picked up his banana, peeling it from the bottom. Louis was no expert on fruit but he was fairly sure you were supposed to start with the pointy end at the top. He wasn’t about to correct him, though, since he basically just shit all over Harry’s kind attempt at ordering him something healthy. 

“That’s a lot of… junk,” Harry grinned. “I doubt your body would shut down from some kale. It would probably be very, very thankful, actually.” 

Liam ordered a large water and fruit salad as Louis argued to Harry that his body is more than capable of handling a Pepsi and a burger. As Liam finished ordering his lunch, Louis suddenly became painfully aware that Liam and Harry had not actually spoken since they sat down. 

“You and Liam must be related, he’s into all that health shit, too,” Louis said in an attempt to redirect the conversation away from himself and back toward Liam. “Fruits and vegetables and hydrating and running for no reason early in the morning like a fucking lunatic, sounds like you two have a lot in common.” 

Harry’s face brightened as he looked toward Liam.

“Is that right?” he asked, clapping his hands together delightedly, far more excited than Louis had anticipated. “You failed to mention that on the phone!” 

Liam beamed back at him.

“I suppose so,” he answered. “I love to lift weights, did a bit competitively back in Uni. Play sports, ride my bike, swim, you know,” Liam looked down at the fruit salad being placed in front of him. “Try to eat healthy when I can. Hard to do on a budget, though.”

“That’s amazing!” Harry responded. “I’m pretty much the only one in my family really into health and stuff. My sister basically lives on Diet Coke and cigarettes,” he laughed. “I’ve always felt a bit like a black sheep in that regard,” he admitted as he dropped his gaze to his plate. 

They launched into a conversation about their favorite workouts and something about electrolytes and how more people should focus on drinking eight cups of water per day. By the time they worked their way around to the importance of a thorough mind/body/soul balance to an individual’s overall well-being, Louis found himself wondering whether stabbing himself in the eye with his fork would be an effective means of changing the subject. 

He picked it up and twirled the utensil in his fingers, examining the prongs. Not as sharp as he’d hoped. 

Since this day was about Liam and not Louis, he decided to be the bigger person and not stab himself. The sacrifices he makes for his friends, honestly. Instead, he allowed his gaze to wander lazily toward Harry as he spoke to Liam about shit Louis didn’t care about, his words only vaguely registering in Louis’ brain. Something about gardening. 

His eyes settled on Harry’s mouth as he spoke, lips bright pink and upturned into what seemed to be a permanent smile. When he laughed, a deep dimple formed in his left cheek. Louis wondered what it would be like to stick his tongue in it. His eyes were so big and so bright. 

Liam said something to make him laugh and Louis noticed Harry’s broad shoulders shook with the motion, his big hands squeezing into a fist where they lay on the table, the muscles in his forearm flexing. Jesus, his hands were big. Louis found himself wondering what ring size he wore. Not that he was thinking about rings for Harry. Probably like an 11. Maybe bigger.

“—don’t you think so, Louis?” Liam’s voice cut through his thoughts, snapping Louis out of his daze. 

“Hmm?” Louis responded. 

He was suddenly very aware of the fact that he had no idea what they were even discussing. Gardening, still? How long had they been sitting here? Days, maybe? Weeks? He should probably check to make sure that he wasn’t drooling. Liam shot him a sideways look before continuing. 

“That your job doesn’t define who you are,” Liam glared at Louis, making it perfectly obvious that he knew exactly why he was a bit behind the curve. Louis felt a flush rise in his cheeks. “What you do isn’t who you are, it’s just what you do. Harry was just saying he kind of doesn’t love his job. You can relate.” 

Louis felt like a kid who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

“Oh, uh, yeah, absolutely,” Louis responded, eager to contribute and make it up to Liam. “And, er, what exactly do you do, Harold?” he asked, probably overly nonchalant, sending up silent prayers that Harry’s actual job title had not already been discussed and therefore drawing even more attention to the fact that Louis had listened to virtually nothing up until this point.

“It’s boring. To be honest, I kind of hate it,” Harry said slowly. 

Louis watched as Harry furrowed his brow, considering his next words carefully before speaking them, picking up his fork to push some salad around on his plate. 

“I work for a law firm,” Harry said. “I’m trying to get some experience in before going to law school. I mean, it’s cool I guess, the pay is good and everything, but it’s just not really what I thought it would be.” 

Harry picked up his peeled banana, his fingers working as he spoke to break the fruit apart into bite-size chunks. He paused before continuing and glanced up at Louis, meeting his eyes for a short moment before dropping his gaze back toward the table. 

“It’s so strange, the way you can spend your whole life thinking you want to be something, even though you don’t actually know anything about what it would be like.” 

Louis was enraptured with the way Harry spoke, each word slow and intentional. He could not stop watching Harry’s fingers move, finishing with his banana and wiping off the residue on his napkin. Louis needed to get it together. Pronto.

“Yeah, I kind of know what you mean,” he answered, unable to pull his eyes from Harry’s hands as the napkin dragged between each finger. 

He caught sight of what looked to be a small tattoo on the top of Harry’s right hand, etched into the skin between his thumb and index finger. It looked to be a cross. Louis wondered if Harry was religious. He did not seem like the tattoo type. 

“I’ve got a Business Management degree, but the focus was Music,” Louis explained. “Figured I’d graduate and land a hotshot job in A&R at a hotshot label raking in loads of cash and signing new talent. Lots of expensive suits and backstage passes and fancy Italian wine. Turns out it’s a lot less fancy wine and a lot more coffee runs for my asshole boss. Really living the dream,” he finished dryly. Harry smiled at that. 

It definitely wasn’t a lie. The past two years had really knocked Louis down a few pegs. The idea he’d had of what it would be like to work for a big label was much different than it was in reality. There were a few perks – being able to cut out early a couple times a week, getting to drink at pubs while listening to bands around town and telling himself it was “for work” – but that was pretty much it. Louis was confident he would eventually get his break. He just needed to keep his head down, keep working hard, and good things would come his way. It would get better. Eventually.

“You work in the music industry? That is so cool!” Harry said, sipping on his smoothie. “Must be so interesting.”

“Yeah, it can be. Just not my particular job,” Louis grumbled. “What I’d really like to do is scout and sign new talent. Help out really talented people who are working hard and just cant quite get that big break.”

“Louis does a lot of ‘talent scouting’ now,” Liam teased, miming air quotations around the words. “Like, three nights a week at the pubs watching bands play. Open mic nights. Always calls it ‘working.’” 

Liam was a prick.

“Technically I am scouting talent,” Louis shot back. “I’m just currently not in a position to actually do anything with that talent once I discover it.” 

“Ever heard of The Grade 8?” Harry asked. 

Louis furrowed his brow, attempting to conjure up any sort of memory of a group with that name but coming up empty.

“Nope, don’t believe I’ve heard them. They any good?” 

Harry sat his smoothie down on the table, shaking his head.

“No, no, The Grade 8 is a pub. My friend Ed’s place. Hosts a fair number of open mic nights. Kind of a dive, so you might not have ever been there.” 

Louis shook his head; he had definitely never been there. 

“I play there sometimes,” Harry added on sheepishly, dropping his gaze downward toward his mostly finished salad.

“You play music?” Liam asked from beside Louis. 

Louis was intrigued, too. Harry didn’t really strike him as the artist type with his business attire and fixation on healthy living. Most musicians Louis knew chain-smoked cigarettes and hydrated almost exclusively with liquor. 

“Yeah, always have, ever since I was little,” Harry responded. “Play guitar, a bit of bass, sing a bit. The usual.” 

Harry seemed pleased but also slightly embarrassed talking about music. That wouldn’t do.

“Liam is an amazing singer. Must be genetic,” Louis chimed in. 

Liam blushed a bit under the praise but didn’t argue. 

“Really? You sing?” Harry seemed delighted, clapping his hands together in front of him and beaming at Louis. “Do you play any instruments?”

Liam laughed and smiled at Harry, then looking toward Louis before responding. 

“Yeah, I sing,” Liam said. “Actually studied Music and Voice at Uni, got my degree in Theatre Studies. I work full-time at the Children’s Theatre downtown now, doing vocal coaching and directing small productions and such. Absolutely love it. Not much money in it, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“That’s so cool!” Harry answered earnestly, folding his hands in his lap and leaning in toward Liam. “I wonder if it is genetic? Love of music? No one else in my family, like, plays instruments or sings or anything. My mum and sister are super supportive and all, but they just, like, aren’t musically inclined or whatever.” 

Harry talked so slow, but each word seemed so carefully considered, as though he felt each thought he had was special and deserved special consideration before letting them out into the world. Louis couldn’t relate. He had a horrible case of word vomit. Basically every thought that passed through his brain found its way out of his mouth with zero filter. 

“Hey, I just had a thought, actually,” Harry perked up. “Normally we just do, like, open mic night or whatever. But we actually have our first gig coming up on Saturday.” 

Louis and Liam both looked confusedly back at Harry.

“We?” Liam asked.

“Oh, yeah, my band,” Harry said. Louis’ eyebrows shot up in surprise as he stifled the urge to giggle. “We’ve been together for a couple years now. We usually just do open mic nights and bad karaoke but this is our first proper gig. I think we’ve got like, two hours or something. Been practicing for ages.”

Louis dropped his fist from his mouth where he had been covering his smile. It wasn’t that he found the idea of Harry in a band to be hilarious; it was more that he found the idea of Harry in a band to be hilarious. 

When he had mentioned that he played guitar and sang, Louis had been surprised, but plenty of twenty-somethings could play an acoustic guitar and sing a bit of Coldplay with friends after a few beers. It was a whole different story to be in an actual band. 

Louis felt his chest warm inexplicably at the thought. He found it… endearing. Shit.

“Anyway, you guys should totally come! Starts at like 9ish on Saturday. I’ll text you the address,” Harry said to Liam.

“I think we can swing that, don’t you, Lou?” Liam shot him a look that plainly said I want to go.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Louis responded, catching Harry’s eye. 

Harry’s face softened when he caught Louis’ gaze, the dimple growing along with his smile. 

Well, shit.

 

******  
2.2

THE MEETING  
Wednesday, April 22, 2015

HARRY  
******

 

“So, how’d it go… tell me everything,” Anne said.

Her voice was warm and supportive even through the phone. She really was a treasure. Harry should get her something extra special for Mother’s Day this year. 

“I want to hear all about it, love.”

“It went… really well, actually. Like, kind of way better than I expected?” Harry admitted. 

He hadn’t gotten much work done after lunch. He had been distracted and had spent the afternoon attempting to sort through the million different thoughts scrolling through his brain. He sat at his desk with his headphones in, staring blankly at the pile of files to his right, wishing the briefs he had promised Simon would write themselves. They hadn’t.

If he was being honest, he had been wary of meeting Liam in person. Even after texting steadily for the better part of a week and having a couple of phone conversations to finalize the details, Harry had still been nervous to bridge that gap between virtual brothers and actual, real life, sitting-at-a-table-in-front-of-you brothers.

“Well? What was he like?” 

Harry could hear the eagerness in her voice, any attempt at playing it cool completely abandoned.

“He was great,” Harry said. “A really, really nice guy.”

“Of course he is,” Anne said. “He’s related to you. So you hit it off, then?”

“Yeah, yeah, I would say so. We have some of the same interests, so that’s a starting place, at least,” Harry said. 

He dragged his fingernail absentmindedly along the worn, wooden tabletop, tracing the curves of the wood grain beneath it. He should probably invest in a new kitchen table at some point. This one was a hand-me-down he had gotten for free from his grandmother when he had moved into his first apartment after Uni and he’d never had the heart to get rid of it, even after he was able to afford a newer one. Something about knowing his mum had eaten at this very table as a kid made Harry feel very attached to it.

“That’s so exciting,” Anne said. “I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you all about it when I see you on Saturday,” Harry promised. “Actually, he brought a friend along with him.” 

Harry attempted nonchalance. The pointed silence from the other end told him that he failed.

“Really nice guy. Funny. Smart. He was pretty outgoing. Seemed… nice.” 

He could practically hear Anne’s smirk through the phone. He dropped his forehead to the kitchen table and squeezed his eyes shut. Oh well, whatever, he needed to talk about this. He needed to hear someone say out loud the words in his head – that this was a bad idea.

“Is that right?” she said over-casually. “You and this ‘friend,’ did you hit it off?” 

She was openly giggling now. Harry hated her.

“I mean, yeah, at least I feel like we did,” he sighed into the phone, slumping back into his seat. “That’s completely inappropriate though, right? I am just now meeting Liam… it’s not okay to be into his friend, right?” 

Harry waited as a long pause lingered from Anne’s end. So long, actually, that Harry was worried the line had disconnected. 

“Uh, hello?” 

“Yes, love, I’m here,” she said. “I think that kind of depends on a few things, really. Depends on what you’re wanting your relationship with Liam to be, first of all.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, what do you hope your relationship with Liam will look like a year or so from now?”

“I’d like for us to be close,” Harry said, not missing a beat. “I love Gemma, but I’ve always wanted a brother. He’s into health and works out and stuff, like I do. And he is into music. Plus, he seems like a genuinely good person from what I can tell.” 

The thoughts spilled out of Harry without him stopping to organize them, realizing for the first time as he said them out loud just how happy he was that Liam had reached out to him. 

“He is brave. Got to be, you know, to just throw yourself headfirst into searching for a sibling you didn’t even know that you had with zero hesitation. Takes courage.”

“Mmm,” Anne hummed in agreement. “So it sounds like you want to continue building that relationship?”

“Right,” Harry agreed.

“And this ‘friend’ he brought along with him today,” Anne paused for a moment, as though she was working out where to go next. “You are attracted to him? Physically?” 

“What?”

“You know, maybe he’s cute and you’re single and just looking for something fun. Or no strings attached—“

“No, no, it’s not like that!” he jumped in as he realized what his mum was implying. Hit it and quit it. One and done. “Well, I mean, it is like that, he is very, like, physically attractive, definitely, definitely like that, but it was—” 

Harry thought for a moment as he tried to verbalize what he had been feeling in the café. 

“—it was more than just that.”

“More?” 

“Yeah,” Harry cleared his throat. “It was more than just me finding him physically attractive. He is… different. Bright. Energetic. So funny. So expressive when he talks. And smart. And I just felt… something. Little spark or something. I don’t know,” Harry muttered.

He absentmindedly drew shapes on the table with his fingertip as he spoke, feeling a bit embarrassed with the conversation and trying to scrub the fact that his mum had just asked him if he was looking for a one night stand from his brain.

“You know how sometimes you meet people, and it’s just so hard to talk to them, and you struggle to find common ground, shared interests? Well, we had basically no common ground or shared interests—“ Harry smiled as he remembered the horror on Louis’ face at hearing the word ‘beet’, “—but there was no struggle to talk. There was just something more. I think he noticed, too.”

“Well well, you sound excited,” Anne said softly, a smile in her voice. “I haven’t heard you excited about someone in a very long time.”

“I know. I feel excited,” Harry mumbled, admitting it to himself more than to his mother. “Of course when I do finally meet someone I’m interested in, it would be someone totally off limits. This is like the plot to a shitty rom-com. Boy meets long-lost brother, boy likes long-lost brother’s best friend, disaster ensues.”

“That seems a bit dramatic,” Anne laughed.

“I just don’t want to jeopardize my relationship with Liam, more than anything. I’m really excited about that, too,” Harry said.

“That does make it a bit tricky,” Anne said happily, “but you know that things happen for a reason. Liam reaching out to you when he did… maybe there is a reason. Life has a funny way of giving you what you need without you even knowing that you need it.”

Harry stood from the table and walked across the kitchen to the refrigerator. He grabbed a bottle of water and unscrewed the cap, listening to Anne as he took a long drink.

“Who says you can only have one good thing happen to you at a time?” she asked. “So you’ve got a brother now. And you’ve also got a new person in your life, thanks to that new brother, who makes you sound excited for the first time in a long time. Stop beating yourself up over it. Relax. You don’t have to figure it out today. Just see what happens.” 

Damn, she gave good advice. Harry felt lighter almost immediately after hanging up with Anne. This afternoon had just been so unexpected; he was still reeling a bit from all of it. He had gone to the café wary of meeting Liam, but that had gone so much better than he had been anticipating. Liam had been nice and funny and someone Harry would genuinely like to know.

And then, as an added bonus, there had been Louis. 

Louis, who was small and fit and beautiful. Louis, with his smart mouth and self-deprecating humor and very obvious, very endearing support for Liam. Harry wanted to know him better, too. Wanted to know everything about him, actually. Wanted to introduce him to Niall and Zayn. Wanted to introduce Liam to Niall and Zayn. He remembered he would be able to on Saturday when Louis and Liam came to watch them play.

He smiled to himself, pulling out his phone and typing a quick message to his group thread with Niall and Zayn.

**6:38pm:**  
Went great. Liam is awesome, can’t wait for you to meet him. He brought a friend who might be my future husband. They are both coming to Ed’s on Saturday night so be on your best behavior. See you tomorrow for practice. Niall – sorry, but leave the bagpipes at home. Not gonna work for this show, mate. Maybe the next one. -H

**Niall Horan, 6:40pm:**  
Prick!!!!!!!

He couldn’t wait until Saturday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice.


	3. The Gig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry plays music. Louis watches. 
> 
> They both get drunk on each other.

******  
3.1

THE GIG  
Saturday, April 25, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

Louis ducked his head and plopped down heavily into the driver’s seat, adjusting his quiff in the rearview mirror as Liam settled into the seat beside him. He reached across his chest and tugged on the old, stubborn seatbelt, attempting to calm the nerves he had been battling throughout the day. 

He gave his hair one final look of approval before flipping the visor up and starting the engine. He leaned a bit to his left and fussed with the waistband of his pants where they were digging into his hip, attempting to pull them up and hopefully relieve some of the pressure. They were probably a bit too tight, if he was being completely honest, but they made his ass look amazing. If he had chosen them intentionally for that exact reason, no one but Louis needed to know. 

He abruptly threw the car into reverse and backed out of the parking space a tad too quickly, prompting a quiet "Jesus!" from Liam as he gripped the passenger side door in terror. Louis was truly an awful driver.

"Alright then, off we go, pedal to the metal," he announced as they made their way onto the main road. "You’ve got the address to this place, right? I've never heard of it, myself. Haven’t got the slightest clue where we're going." 

Louis made a wild right onto the main highway, heading north despite not knowing in which direction the pub was located. Liam’s fingers were wrapped around the door handle tight enough that his knuckles were turning white. 

Louis hoped the pub was north. Louis had no clue where he was headed.

Liam pulled his phone out and punched the address into the GPS. 

"Looks like it's only about ten minutes away," he announced. 

Louis was a little skeptical of this place. He had spent a lot of time in a lot of pubs in this area, both for work and for pleasure, and he had never heard of The Grade 8. That did not bode well, in his opinion. He chose not to voice his concerns to Liam. 

They rode in silence for most of the drive. Louis haphazardly followed the directions that were blasting intermittently from Liam’s GPS, interrupting the music periodically and getting them thoroughly turned around more than once. He turned down a poorly lit side street that he didn’t recognize. 

“The destination is on the right.”

Louis parked the car and craned his neck backward to try and identify which horrendously marked entrance along the sidewalk could be The Grade 8. He saw a few groups of people disappear through a large, wooden door set back in the brick façade just a couple hundred feet from where they parked. 

Human life – seemed like a good sign, even if the exterior of the pub was lacking in curb appeal. They climbed out of the car and walked up to the building. 

"The Grade 8," Louis read off the words from a very old, worn, barely legible sign hung above the door. "Might want to have Harry suggest some better lighting 'round this sign to his friend. I cannot believe anyone can find this place, ever. Not without knowing what they're looking for, at least. Like the bloody Room of Requirement, this is." 

"It does seem a bit dodgy, huh?" Liam asked. 

Louis grunted in assent. He tugged on the heavy door handle and led both men through the dark entryway. 

The pub inside was much like the sidewalk outside—dark and dimly lit, with wood walls and wood floors and giving off a distinct Addams Family vibe—but altogether much larger than Louis had been expecting. 

A sizable crowd had already begun to form. There were only a couple of open tables near the very back, with most people opting to pack in tightly around the bar toward the stage. Louis took the lead, turning sideways to slide between bodies and work his way up to the bar. He felt Liam press in close behind him. 

"What do you want?" Louis called over his shoulder. "I was just going to start with a beer myself... first round's on me, unless you want something fancy, in which case the first round's on you. Actually, every round’s on you, in that case." 

He waited for Liam to respond as he surveyed the selection of draft beers, clearly overwhelmed by the many options. A friendly looking man with colorful tattoos and bright red hair appeared in front of them.

"What can I get you, lads?" he asked as he wiped his hands on a dingy white dishrag hanging from his belt. "Need any help deciding? Don't recognize your faces."

"Yeah, first time here. What do you recommend?" Louis asked. 

The barkeep launched into a long-winded description of his two personal favorites, a dark and heavy Lager and a light, flavorful, Amber Ale. 

"The Amber Ale sounds good to me. Work for you, Li?" Louis turned his head to catch Liam craning his neck toward the stage, most likely in search of Harry. 

"Huh? Oh, yeah, whatever you think," he responded distractedly. "Lots of people in here. I didn't think it would be quite this packed. There's, like, a proper crowd here." Liam sounded impressed.

Louis nodded in agreement and ordered them each a beer. Liam was right, there really was a proper crowd forming. When Harry had said "little gig," Louis had been envisioning a small, relatively unpopular, empty pub and, if he was being totally honest, was expecting some subpar music. He had tried not to jump to premature conclusions when Harry invited them, but his years of experience frequenting horrendous open mic nights had left him jaded. 

Standing in this crowded room, however, Louis had to admit that he was impressed. He was surprised to find himself standing at a packed bar in a pub with a fair following of regular customers who belonged to a much younger and cooler demographic than he had been expecting. 

Louis watched more people filter in through the front doors as he waited on their beers. Lots of tattoos. Some colorful hair. Yes, honestly, he was surprised. He was also very, very curious (and a bit skeptical) to see how Law Firm Harry™ was going to entertain this particular group of patrons. 

He took the glasses from the bartender and handed one to Liam before taking a sip from his own. The barkeep was right; it was good.

"Want to go to one of the tables in the back?" Liam asked. 

Louis glanced back to see Liam fidgeting a bit as two people pressed up against him from his other side, causing beer to slosh out of the glass and onto his hand. 

"Bit crowded here by the bar, innit?"

Louis had no problem functioning in crowds. He loved getting lost in the middle of a sea of bodies in a pub or at a club, jumping and dancing and packed right up against strangers you would never know the names of, everyone moving together like one big, drunk, sweaty, amorphous blob. 

Liam had always preferred a more low-key event to a night out. Given the choice, he would much rather be with a small group of friends at their flat than go out drinking. 

Louis could tell that Liam was feeling a bit overwhelmed in the middle of the large group of strangers, but he didn’t particularly want to sit all the way in the back. At the moment, that was the only free table in the room. Plus, he had been hoping for a close-up view of Harry as he performed tonight. That wasn’t anything Liam needed to know, though. 

Louis pushed that thought to the back of his mind. Deal with that later; deal with Liam now.

Louis watched as a couple of people seated at the end of the bar nearest the stage grabbed their drinks and vacated their stools. He grabbed Liam by the arm and weaved his way through the crowd, tugging him along as he moved. Thankfully, the crowd thinned out a bit as they approached the empty seats. Not exactly a prime location, though – the speaker was almost directly to their right – but they were still very close to the stage and not crammed in the middle of a crowd.

"This alright?" Louis asked as Liam sat down on the stool beside him. "I don't really want to be all the way in the back. I’d like to be able to actually see who is performing without needing binoculars." 

Liam smiled and nodded. 

"Yeah, this is fine. Just a little warm back there with all the bodies and people. Some girl next to me went way overboard on the perfume as well. Like, really overboard. At least I can breathe." 

They both sipped their beers lazily, scanning the crowd as they looked for Harry. 

"Wonder where Harry is?" Louis asked, attempting nonchalance.

"Glad to see you two found the place alright." 

Louis heard the deep, slow voice emanating from somewhere behind him. He glanced backward over his right shoulder to see a figure leaning against the side of the stage, cast almost completely in the shadows. No, not a figure. Harry. Definitely Harry. But definitely not Harry from the café.

Louis said nothing as he drank Harry in, shocked to see every trace of the business casual look from Wednesday erased. Harry had a big, genuine smile painted on his face as he surveyed Louis and Liam from his spot by the stage. His face was just as pretty as it had been at the café that day, but his hair was completely different. It was wild and curly and much longer than Louis had originally noticed. Harry had it tied back and held out of his face by some sort of scarf. It was green. It matched his eyes. 

Louis shamelessly allowed his eyes to roam Harry's body, dropping to his broad shoulders and exposed chest. He was wearing a sheer, black blouse, unbuttoned to just above his bellybutton, exposing what looked to be an enormous butterfly tattoo on his abs. Yep, definitely abs. Definitely a tattoo. Louis was definitely dead. 

Harry’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and Louis could make out the outline of more tattoos on either arm. There was faint writing etched into his inner forearms, but Louis was unable to decipher the actual words from where he stood. He could, however, identify a large rose on his arm just underneath his left elbow. 

Jesus, his arms. He was big. All of him was big. 

Louis dropped his gaze to Harry’s waist (definitely not his crotch, definitely not) and saw that he was wearing black skinnies that were tight enough to rival Louis' own. Actually, they were tight enough that Louis was unable to confidently say whether they were true jeans or actually some variation of jeggings. 

Harry's (enormous, not that Louis had noticed) feet were clad in leopard print boots. Leopard. Print. Boots. Louis thought maybe his brain was short-circuiting. 

He heard Liam speaking from somewhere to his left, snapping him out of his trance. He snapped his mouth shut quickly, realizing in embarrassment that it had been hanging open the entire time he had checked Harry out. 

It could have been worse. He could have been drooling. 

Louis thought he saw Harry smirking at him, a playful glint in his eye as he walked toward them to shake their hands.

"There's, like, a lot of people here," Liam said for possibly the hundredth time. "Are there always this many people?" 

Harry’s eyes scanned the growing crowd, a shy smile playing at the corner of his lips as he ran his hand through his hair. 

"Er, no, not exactly… normally we just play open mic nights… this is, like, the first real gig we've had. With proper advertisement and stuff. Like, Ed made signs and is offering some specials on drinks and he’s letting us sell some stuff." 

He gestured in the direction of the read headed bartender who had helped them earlier. Louis tore his eyes away from Harry's face to acknowledge Ed behind the bar, giving him a small wave and smile. He turned back to face Harry only to find Harry’s eyes already locked onto his face.

"Hello, Louis. Good to see you again," Harry said.

Louis noted that his eyes were big and heavy-lidded, his words thick as molasses as they rolled from his tongue. The way his mouth worked when he talked should be illegal. Louis felt something dark and heavy unfurl in his lower stomach as he listened to Harry talk. Desire. 

He shifted a bit on his barstool, attempting to will the lust away. He was going to need Harry to bring his voice up a few octaves if he hoped to survive tonight.

"Hey, you too, thanks again for inviting us.”

Louis tried to get his shit together as he took Harry's hand in his and shook hello. His hands were huge. So big. Big big big. 

"We didn't realize that was Ed behind the bar. Helpful lad. Picked us out some beers earlier," Louis said, attempting to keep his voice steady. Was he sweating? He was sweating. 

"Yeah, he's a great guy. No worries, your drinks are on the house tonight," Harry said with an easy smile. Louis and Liam both went to protest, but Harry held up both hands. "Seriously, it's not me, Ed insisted when I told him you were coming. Been friends for a long time, says he's happy to do it. I'll take you over there and introduce you properly after the show."

Louis couldn’t help but notice that Harry seemed to be looking exclusively in his direction as he talked. He felt a pang of guilt at that… this whole thing was not about Louis. He was about to say something to redirect the conversation back toward Liam when he looked to his left, discovering Liam to be completely distracted, his eyes fixed on the stage.

"Who is that," Liam asked, his voice lower than usual and line of sight unwavering. 

Louis followed his gaze and immediately located the source of Liam's distraction. Harry looked toward the stage, laughing loudly as he realized what Liam was looking at. Or, rather, who Liam was looking at.

"That," Harry said, "is Zayn, our drummer. Well, one of my best mates, but he just happens to also be our drummer. Really talented. He's got a great voice too, really adds something different to the vocals. You'll be impressed, I think." 

Harry cast a sideways glance at Louis, trying to stifle a knowing smile as Liam’s eyes remained transfixed. 

"Want me to introduce you?" Harry asked over-casually. Louis tried to school his mouth into a straight line to keep from giggling, but it was difficult with Harry teasing Liam right in front of him. Teasing Liam was one of Louis’ favorite things.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Liam answered distractedly. "Seems like a nice lad." 

Oh my God, nice? Louis had to physically turn his body in the opposite direction, leaning down and pretending to adjust his shoelace to avoid Liam catching him laughing into his fist. How can someone who doesn't even know you exist seem like a “nice lad” from fifty feet away in a crowded bar? Louis made a mental note to torment Liam about this at a future date. Harry's shoulders shook with quiet laughter as he locked eyes with Louis, sparkling as they shared a smile between them.

"Sweet, be right back," Harry said, turning toward the stage and taking the stairs two at a time.

Louis looked to Zayn, properly taking him in for the first time, and, well, damn. Liam had good taste; Louis had never argued that. Zayn was gorgeous. Black hair styled haphazardly into a messy quiff, wearing a black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, heavily tattooed arms exposed. He was effortlessly beautiful. 

Louis watched as Harry walked up to him and whispered something into his ear, standing a bit closer than was truly necessary. Louis felt something in his chest burn a bit at the sight, immediately burying whatever that feeling was somewhere deep down. Even if there was something going on with Harry and Zayn, that was totally fine. Louis had no right to feel jealous. Zayn was probably a really nice guy. 

Louis watched Harry bring a hand up and place it between Zayn’s shoulder blades as he continued to speak into his ear. Zayn chuckled softly at whatever Harry was saying. Okay, well, Zayn was obviously the worst. Louis officially hated Zayn. It wasn’t because of Harry touching him, though – he just looked shifty. Louis didn’t trust him. 

Louis narrowed his eyes in their general direction just in time for Zayn to meet his gaze quickly before looking back to Harry, face crinkling up into an unfairly adorable smile. Damn, they would make a hot couple. Louis wanted to throw his beer glass at his face.

Harry grabbed the arm of a second man with bright blonde hair as he walked by carrying a large, electric guitar. Harry pointed toward where Liam and Louis were seated at the bar, grinning and waving embarrassingly at Louis as Zayn and the blonde man followed Harry's gaze. Louis found himself grinning in return, meeting Harry's eyes and waving over-dramatically in response. They probably looked like a pair of idiots. Louis’ chest warmed at the thought. He looked to his left to see Liam frozen, eyes wide like a deer caught in a pair of headlights.

Harry barked out a loud laugh at Louis’ ridiculous display and the three men started walking across the stage toward the bar. They hopped down in front of Louis and Liam, one after the other, Harry and the blonde beaming while Zayn looked slightly apprehensive standing a few feet behind them.

"Liam, Louis, this is Zayn," Harry gestured toward Zayn behind him, "and this is Niall,” he pointed to the blonde standing to his right. 

Niall bounced in front of Harry, eagerly reaching his hand out to grab Liam's without waiting for Liam to offer it. 

"Niall, pleased to meet you, mate, really glad you lads could make it out tonight," he said with a thick Irish accent, smiling as though tonight was the best night of his life. He had a pair of Ray Bans propped on top of his head despite it being well after nine o’clock and very poorly lit inside the pub. "Hope it’ll be a good one for you. Harry's been working us to death to get ready. Been a real pain in the ass," Niall said jokingly. Louis saw Harry's brow furrow at that, playfully punching Niall in the shoulder.

"Heyyyy, you'll thank me tonight when you don't fuck up that bridge," Harry said. 

Niall reached his hand out to shake Louis', still smiling ear to ear. Louis immediately decided that he liked this person. Zayn still hung back, clearly less outgoing than Niall but not putting out overtly unfriendly vibes. Louis’ hatred for him had simmered down a bit since Harry had stopped touching him. Probably totally unrelated. Complete coincidence.

Louis finished shaking Niall's hand and met Zayn’s eye. 

"Nice to meet you both, thanks again for inviting us. This place is pretty cool. Little difficult to locate," Louis pinched his index finger and thumb together, stressing just how little, "but pretty cool once you find it."

"It's definitely a dive," Zayn said, pulling a cigarette out from the carton in his front pocket. He held it up, silently offering one to Liam and Louis. Liam shook his head "no" while Harry scrunched his nose in disapproval. 

"Hell yeah," Louis responded immediately. Zayn handed him a cigarette and turned to light his own. "We can smoke inside?"

"Yeah, Ed doesn't care," Zayn responded lazily. "Pretty sure it's against about a million different city codes, but, whatevs. Not my pub." 

Louis decided he liked Zayn. Louis wasn't the only one, apparently. Liam hadn't taken his eyes off Zayn in what felt like hours. 

Louis caught Harry's eye as he inhaled, smirking flirtatiously as he blew a thin strand of smoke out of the corner of his mouth. He watched as Harry's eyes darkened, fixed on Louis' mouth as he exhaled before abruptly dropping his gaze and looking back toward Niall. Louis knew he looked hot while smoking – it was one of his favorite tools in his arsenal. A smug smile overtook his face as he watched a slight flush rise in Harry’s cheeks.

"We were supposed to go on ten minutes ago," Harry said, glancing at a questionably old clock on the wall behind the bar. Louis seriously doubted its accuracy. "We should probably get a move on." 

Zayn and Niall both said one last "nice to meet you" to Liam and Louis before turning and walking up the steps and onto the stage. Harry turned to face Louis, Liam totally unconcerned with either of them as his eyes never left Zayn, watching as he sat down at his drums and fidgeted with some controls on the floor. Louis shook his head and looked at Harry, who was already smiling down at him.

"Think maybe Payno here’s in love," Louis mumbled under his breath. "Don't think I've ever seen him quite so… fixated. Little creepy, if I’m honest." 

"Yeah, well, Zayn tends to have that effect on people," Harry laughed. Louis didn't pick up any hint of jealousy in his words (not that he was searching, thank you very much.) He was starting to get the feeling they were decidedly not romantically involved. Not that he cared. At all. "He’s not exactly terrible looking." 

"No, not exactly," Louis responded with a laugh. "Now get going, you're keeping your many adoring fans waiting. Very rude. Very unprofessional, Styles. Tsk tsk." Harry laughed, crinkles forming beside his eyes. He started walking backward toward the stage, not breaking eye contact with Louis. "Don't want to piss them off before you even start playing. Might get rowdy, start throwing tomatoes at you on stage and booing. I'll be leading the effort, of course. I love a good heckling."

Harry flipped his middle finger and stuck his tongue out before turning his back to him. Louis brought his hand up to cover his mouth as he erupted into an embarrassing fit of giggles. His chest warmed as he watched Harry awkwardly climb onto the stage, his long limbs tangling together as he attempted to stand up. He was thinking of shouting something about Harry looking like a baby giraffe when turned to his left and found Liam staring at him, one eyebrow raised judgmentally. Shit. Apparently, he had been able to break his Zayn Trance just long enough to watch Louis shamelessly flirting with his brother. 

"Shit, sorry," Louis said, feeling very awkward and unsure of what to say. "I know I shouldn't be flirting with your brand new brother. He's just… so hot." 

Louis spoke the words like a petulant, begging child. Liam made a face that suggested he did not agree.

"Jesus, that's my brother, Louis," he responded. "Even if I've only known him for, like, a few weeks, still my brother and still weird for you to tell me he's hot. We're, like, related. If you're going to flirt with him… whatever, just don’t tell me about it. And maybe try to tone it down when you're two feet in front of my face." 

Liam looked away from Louis and back toward the stage, eyes immediately zeroing in on Zayn.

"Didn't think you'd notice, to be quite honest," Louis chirped innocently, taking a sip of his beer and smashing the end of his cigarette into the ashtray on the bar. "Seemed a bit… distracted." 

Liam blushed and dropped his gaze to the glass in his hand, suddenly very interested in his beverage. 

"He is gorgeous, though," Louis teased. “Truly.”

"I hate you," Liam muttered.

The lights dimmed, prompting a round of applause and cheers from the crowd. Two spotlights toward the front of the stage flickered on, illuminating a rather beautiful hand-painted banner hanging on the wall behind where Zayn sat alone at his drums, lazily twirling his sticks in his left hand. He waved in acknowledgement toward the crowd as the clapping faded out and began playing a repetitive, catchy beat as the audience talked amongst themselves, drinking and waiting for the show to begin.

Louis always got a bit nervous before watching friends or family or people he knew perform. It could get kind of awkward if they ended up being terrible which, more often than not, turned out to be the case. 

There had been a time when Louis loved performing himself, but that seemed like a lifetime ago now. He hadn't been on a stage since… early Uni, maybe? Some Battle of the Bands charity thing he had done with a couple lads. Louis actually really loved performing - loved seeking talent and watching artists perform, too - but there was nothing quite like the rush you got from being on stage yourself. Unfortunately, he had never found a band that was quite the right fit for him. 

He only played the piano, a difficult instrument to work into an existing band if they didn't have the right sound for it, and he had never felt confident enough about his voice to consider being the lead vocals. He hadn't been interested in just doing background vocals if he was not also playing an instrument, so Louis had accepted the fact that he was probably less suited for a role onstage and more suited for a role behind the scenes. He had rerouted his love for music into the business and industry side of it, which he enjoyed almost as much as the performance side; however, every now and then (like now), he found that he truly did miss the feeling of being up there himself.

The house lights dimmed a bit and a round of applause erupted from the section of the crowd packed up against the stage. 

Louis watched as Niall and Harry emerged from behind a dark curtain, both with guitars slung across their shoulders, Niall’s electric and Harry’s acoustic. Niall was smiling ear to ear, bouncing with the same bubbly energy Louis had picked up on earlier, but he barely had room to register his presence once he got a glimpse of Harry.

Gone was the dorky, gentle-natured, borderline timid Harry from the café on Wednesday. Harry walked across the stage confidently – waving and smiling and blowing fucking kisses like he thought he was fucking Mick Jagger – taking his place at the microphone stand nearest Louis. The stage lights were casting shadows across the skin of his exposed chest and abs, his curls spilling over the top of his headscarf and his thighs flexing underneath his jeans (jeggings?) as he shifted his weight to adjust his mic stand. 

Louis was going to fucking die.

They wasted no time as Zayn counted them off, launching into an upbeat song Louis didn’t recognize. He assumed it must be one of their originals. Surprisingly, he liked it. It was catchy and the rhythm was good and he found himself tapping his foot against the barstool as Niall sang the first verse. He was about to take a sip of his beer when Harry began to sing, stopping his arm with beer glass in hand halfway to his mouth. 

I want you here with me  
Like how I pictured it  
So I don’t have to keep imagining

His voice was deep and raspy and Louis was completely enraptured by every part of him as he sang. The way his mouth moved, the way his face changed, the way his long fingers picked at his guitar strings effortlessly, moving with purpose and grace and Louis wanted to do terrible, terrible things with those fingers.

Come on, jump out at me  
Come on, bring everything  
Is it too much to ask for something great? 

Harry looked to his left toward Louis as he sang the last line, meeting his eyes and face softening into a big, bright smile.

Louis couldn’t have taken his eyes off Harry even if he’d wanted to.

 

******  
3.2

THE GIG  
Saturday, April 25, 2015

HARRY  
******

 

Harry had been helping Zayn and Niall set up equipment for about twenty minutes, checking the doorway every so often, scanning the crowd for a mess of brown hair a bit shorter than the other heads around him. He was looking forward to seeing Liam again, too, of course, but Harry would be lying if he said he hadn’t spent a bit of extra time in the mirror tonight in anticipation of seeing Louis. 

He knelt down and pulled a mess of microphone cords from the crate at his feet, absentmindedly untangling the knots as he thought back to Wednesday at the café.

He had been thinking about Louis a lot since then. He wasn’t sure why, but something about him just… stuck. He’d had a sort of barely contained energy about him that Harry had found to be magnetic – like he was constantly buzzing right under the surface, struggling to keep that energy contained instead of letting it explode and bouncing around the room. His voice had been high and raspy and his words had come out quick and sharp when he spoke and he had been funny and witty and Harry had wanted to sit and talk to him for hours in that café. 

He reached up and tilted his chin to either side to crack his neck. He felt tightly wound. He struggled with a particularly stubborn knot in the cords as he tried to chill. He needed to chill.

Louis had been so perceptive. Whenever there had been a lull in the conversation or it had started to get a bit awkward (as these things tend to do when you’re meeting an estranged brother for the first time), Louis had swept in and diverted the attention with a sarcastic or self-deprecating joke, almost as though he could sense a change in the atmosphere and nipping it in the bud before it could get weird. Harry had been thankful for it. He had been nervous heading to the café that day, but thanks to Louis, everything had stayed light-hearted and happy. 

Harry knelt down and picked up a larger, heavier crate packed full of brand new band merchandise. He headed off toward the small table they had set up toward the bar where Ed was going to let them attempt to sell some things during the show. 

He spent the next ten minutes organizing the table, laying out some copies of the demo CD they had recorded the other week and some of the t-shirts Zayn had designed. The shirts had turned out better than Harry had expected. He made a mental note to buy Zayn a beer later. 

He weaved his way back toward the stage through the dense crowd of people and tried to keep the butterflies at bay as he realized for the first time just how many bodies were packed into Ed’s pub. 

He slipped into the shadows beside the stage and watched people filter in through the front doors. There were almost no empty tables and the bar was packed. It was busier than Harry had seen it since last year’s annual pub-crawl, and there was still about fifteen minutes before they were supposed to go on. 

He leaned his hips against the stage and tilted his head back, staring upward into the rafters. In through the nose, out through the mouth, in through the nose, out through the mouth. He breathed in deeply, making sure he felt his diaphragm expand with each breath, his heart rate slowing as he counted to sixty in his head. Thanks, yoga.

“Pretty fucking crowded, eh?” he heard from somewhere over his shoulder. 

The thick Irish accent gave Niall away before Harry could even turn and look. And just like that, the butterflies were back.

“Yeah. Kind of crazy,” Harry said, still attempting to regulate his breathing and appear unbothered by the growing crowd. “Was kind of expecting something more along the lines of, you know, like, the open mic night crowd size.” 

Harry ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to push it out of his eyes. Where was his headscarf? Definitely needed to find that before the show started.

“Yeah, same here, isn’t it great?” Niall said happily. He seemed totally unconcerned. “Oh well, the more the merrier.” 

“Totally how I feel, too,” Harry said, his words laced with sarcasm. “Not nervous at all. Calm as a cucumber.” 

He dropped the metal guitar stand he was clutching – most likely due to his trembling, sweaty hands – which landed directly on the top of his foot before clamoring loudly to the floor. He cursed under his breath.

“Glad to hear it, mate!” Niall chirped, clapping a hand good-naturedly between Harry’s shoulder blades and completely missing the sarcasm in his voice. “Gonna go help Zayn finish setting up the drums.”

Harry watched as he bounced across the stage to where Zayn was fighting with his foot pedal, waving at a few people gathered toward the front of the crowd as he went. Harry felt a bit sick.

Harry bent down to pick the guitar stand up, taking care not to drop it a second time as he sat it on the stage. He turned to look toward the front entrance and stopped short, breath catching in his throat. Liam and Louis were standing in the doorway and surveying the inside of the pub, looking a hilarious mixture of surprised and impressed and confused and slightly afraid. To be fair, the inside of Ed’s pub was a bit morbidly decorated. 

He watched as they made their way toward the bar. Harry was excited to see Liam again, absolutely, but at the moment he could barely give him a second thought. He was too distracted by the company to his right. 

He watched as Louis made his way through the crowd, leading Liam despite being noticeably smaller than him. He was just so small. Just like Harry remembered from the café. He had noted how small Louis was when they had met that first time, but watching him work his way through a thick crowd of people really drove the point home. He was nearly a head shorter than most everyone around him – women included – but what Louis lacked in physical size he more than made up for in personality and energy. 

Harry could see it now, even from a distance, how Louis was so confident. A path literally cleared in front of him as he weaved through the crowd. There was nothing timid about him. His large personality made his small size even more endearing, like a small package bursting at the seams as it tried to contain far too many items squeezed inside. 

Harry watched Louis sidle up to the bar and place his elbows on the sticky wood, leaning over to try to flag down Ed. He was wearing tight, black skinny jeans with a hole in the left knee. They were very tight. Like, tight-tight. Real tight. Harry wondered if he would even be able to sit down in them. He wondered if when he took them off, they would make an actual peeling sound. 

Not that Harry was thinking about peeling Louis’ jeans off. Just strictly from a physics perspective… what even are the physics behind removing denim that tight? 

Harry watched as Louis and Liam ordered beers, both men completely unaware that they were speaking to Ed. He made a mental note to introduce them properly later. 

He giggled under his breath as he watched Liam spill beer on himself and whisper something to Louis, gesturing toward an empty table in the back of the pub. Harry’s heart sank a bit. He did not want them sitting toward the back. He may have been nervous, but he had every intention of making tonight count and putting on a great show. He was very much hoping Louis – and Liam, too, of course, of course Liam – would have a close-up view of it.

Luckily, Louis did not seem too keen on sitting toward the back of the pub, either. Harry allowed himself to consider that maybe he wanted to be close to the stage for his own… reasons. 

Like, maybe, possibly, an unencumbered, close-up view of Harry. 

Harry’s fingers moved subconsciously at the thought. He unbuttoned his shirt even lower to the base of his ribcage, exposing the top of his butterfly tattoo. 

He watched as Louis gestured toward two recently abandoned barstools not ten feet from where Harry was standing. The butterflies in his stomach fluttered for reasons other than pre-show nerves as the two men made their way toward the vacant seats.

Harry stayed hidden in the shadows for another few moments, watching as Louis got settled and adjusted his shirt, the muscles in his arms flexing as he pulled the hemline down to cover the waistband of his jeans. The stage lights cast shadows in the deep divots of his collarbones as he moved, his eyes searching the crowd for… what? For Harry, maybe? Harry felt his chest warm slightly at the thought. 

He looked down toward his feet and spotted his headscarf at the bottom of the crate on the floor beside him. He knelt down and grabbed it, slipping it over his head and securing his long curls out of his eyes. 

Harry stepped forward from his spot against the stage and cleared his throat, speaking in what he hoped was a very calm, cool and collected voice.

“Glad to see you two found the place alright.”

 

******

 

The show was… incredible. Harry could not remember a time when he felt more alive. Well, maybe that sunrise hike he went on during his backpacking trip through France during Uni. He had been deeply touched by the beauty and wonder of nature, had felt it on a spiritual level – had felt reawakened and reborn after that hike. 

Tonight though – tonight, sweating his ass off in this dark, crowded, morbidly decorated, putrid smelling pub – this was a close second.

Their set was flawless. Sort of. Well, not completely flawless. Zayn broke a drumstick in the middle of a song and Niall did mess up his guitar solo that they’d been practicing for weeks and Harry missed a few notes and almost tripped over an amp cord, but he didn’t think anyone had really noticed. If they did, no one seemed to care. The pub was packed. There was a huge group crowded up near the stage dancing and everyone seemed to be having a great time. 

Plus, there had been Louis. 

Louis on a bar stool to the left of the stage, smiling up at Harry and beating his hand against his thigh to the beat. Louis cheering loudly and singing along and looking at Harry like he hadn’t been looked at in a very long time. Louis with his sweaty quiff starting to wilt and his too-tight jeans hugging his ass every time he stood up to order another beer. Louis and his small hands and easy smile and piercing blue eyes. 

Harry didn’t think he was imagining that those same blue eyes had barely taken their focus off of him the entire night. He didn’t think he’d ever flirted with someone while performing before, but tonight he could check that particular item off of his bucket list. 

“Alright, we only have a few songs left,” Harry had heard Niall say as the final note of the previous song dwindled and the crowd applause subsided. “You guys have been amazing, really, we are having just a fucking amazing time. I never want to leave this stage. Think I might just sleep here.”

“Next one’s going to be a bit of a chilled out one,” Zayn added. “If you’re here with someone special, maybe grab them for a dance. And if you’re not, maybe just grab your drink and enjoy the song anyway.” A loud cheer erupted throughout the crowd from, Harry assumed, the single people. Zayn continued, “This one’s actually just Harry, so anyone wanting to buy Niall or I a beer, you’re in luck… we’ll be available for approximately… four minutes?” 

Zayn and Niall hopped down into the crowd and began making their way toward the bar, leaving Harry alone on the middle of the stage. He glanced over at Louis who was already looking up at him from his barstool, a small smile forming on his lips. It felt private and strange but also exciting. 

Harry’s grin threatened to split his face open as he broke their gaze and looked out toward the crowd.

“This one’s a cover so if you know the words, please, by all means, sing along!” Harry said loudly into his microphone. 

Laughter – applause – some isolated cheers. Was tonight the best night of his life? Probably.

The stage lights dimmed as Harry strummed out the opening chords, casting the audience into darkness. Strangely, Louis was still illuminated in blue light to his left, most likely due the location of his seat so near to the side of the stage. Harry glanced at him and locked eyes for a quick moment before turning his head back around toward the microphone.

Some things we don’t talk about  
Rather do without  
And just hold a smile

Falling in and out of love  
Ashamed and proud of  
Together all the while

The song was really meant for the piano, but Harry didn’t play the piano, so he had written an acoustic arrangement for it to be played on the guitar. He loved these lyrics. He loved most of The Fray’s lyrics but he had a handful of favorites that really resonated with him. 

He sang alone, just he and his guitar, unsure of whether anyone in the crowd was even singing back and not really caring either way. He felt like a true musician. 

He looked to his left and caught Louis’ eye. Well, at least one person in the audience was singing along. 

You can never say never  
While we don’t know when  
But time and time again  
Younger now than we were before

Don’t let me go  
Don’t let me go  
Don’t let me go

Harry kept his eyes on Louis throughout the chorus, a small smile on his lips and a warm feeling in his chest. He felt alive.

 

******

 

“That was… way better than I was expecting,” Liam said as Harry walked up to their spot by the bar. 

His eyes were locked on Louis and he was pretty certain that he was blushing. Harry, not Louis. Wait, was Louis blushing, too? Harry looked toward Liam as his words registered in his foggy brain. He felt overwhelmed. On an adrenaline high. A little buzzed from the alcohol. 

He blinked twice.

“Wait, what?” he directed toward Liam, barking out a laugh.

“No, no! I don’t mean it like that,” Liam recovered, clearly scrambling to backtrack on his words after realizing how they sounded. “I just meant, like, normally when someone says they have a band that plays open mic nights, like, usually they’re a bit… well, they are usually kind of…”

“Shit,” Louis finished for him. “They’re usually shit. I feel as though I can make that statement with relative authority since I spend a good bit—“ Harry laughed as Louis elbowed Liam in the ribs as he not-so-subtly coughed something sounding a lot like ‘too much’ into his fist, “—of my time at pubs listening to amateur musicians play. And they’re pretty much usually always shit.” 

“… But…?” Harry prompted, smiling as Louis smirked at him and took a sip of his beer.

“But, you guys were actually quite good,” Louis smiled. 

Harry’s chest ballooned under the praise.

“Yeah, like, I didn’t really expect you to be awful, but I also didn’t really expect you to be good,” Liam explained. “And you were. Like, proper good.” 

Harry’s smile grew.

“Yes, proper good,” Louis teased. “I especially enjoyed your encore. Where did you even find that arrangement of Uptown Funk?”

“I wrote it,” Harry said, a bit embarrassed. “I like writing arrangements for covers that don’t sound exactly like you might expect them to.” 

Harry felt his cheeks flush under the look Louis was giving him. 

“Wow, well then, color me impressed,” Louis said, raising his eyebrows at Harry and lighting a cigarette. 

Harry frowned as he watched him bring the cigarette to his mouth, inhaling and slowly releasing a trail of smoke from the corner of his smirking lips. What a gross habit. Gross, gross, gross. So why did Harry want to cover Louis’ mouth with his own to breathe in the smoke, tasting Louis mixed in with it? 

Harry shook his head and attempted to focus as Louis continued the onslaught of compliments.

“Didn’t expect that you’d written that arrangement yourself,” Louis said. “Really, you are very good. I’m not just saying that. I don’t say that often. I wouldn’t lie just to make you feel good. But you write music – write music well, there’s an important distinction to be made there – and you’re pretty good with that guitar and your voice…” 

Harry felt the butterflies again despite being offstage. He dropped his gaze toward his toes. 

“Do you have a manager?” Louis asked.

“No, but we do have a demo… it’s for sale! But, you and Liam can have a copy for free, since you’re, like, family and all…” 

Harry trailed off, not sure if that was a weird thing to say. He glanced toward Liam for a reaction. His face looked like a kid on Christmas morning; grin so wide that Harry could see almost every tooth. He heard Louis’ voice cut in.

“You’re more than welcome to give Liam some sort of weird blood-brother discount if you want,” he said as he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and handed Harry some crumpled up cash. How does cash even get crumpled up inside a wallet? “I, however, will be paying for mine.” 

Harry went to protest, but Louis held a hand up to stop him. 

“No, no, I insist. Got to support the local arts and all,” he winked at Harry, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled and took another drag from his cigarette. He stuffed his wallet back into his pocket.

“Thank you,” Harry said. He meant it.

He reached over to the merch table and grabbed two of the demos, pleased to see that only three were left out of the rather large pile that he’d laid out before the show. 

“That means a lot,” Harry said. “And it shouldn’t sound too terrible… Ed hooked us up with some free time in an actual recording studio… he has a friend in the business and we got a whole afternoon in there for free. Was brilliant.”

“Ooooh, aren’t we professional,” Louis teased as he turned the demo over in his hands to examine it. “Well I am most definitely looking forward to listening to this.” 

Harry felt a flush rise around his collar and had to look away from where Louis was smiling up at him. He was just so bright.

They hung around for another hour or so. Harry finally introduced Ed to Liam and Louis and, as promised, took care of any outstanding bar tab either of them had. Ed insisted that everything was on the house. Any friend (or brother, in this case) of Harry’s was a friend of Ed’s. 

He met Ed’s eyes when Louis and Liam were distracted to silently mouth the words ‘thank you.’ Ed rolled his eyes and flipped him his middle finger. His friends were the best.

Niall and Zayn joined Harry, Liam and Louis for a few rounds of shots and, before he knew it, it was nearly two o’clock in the morning. 

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath. “Didn’t realize how late it had gotten.” 

Louis was seated to his right, swirling the foamy head of his beer around in his glass with his pinky finger. Harry reached over and wrapped his fingers around Louis’ delicate wrist, pulling his hand out of his beer. Louis made a mock-offended noise but went easily. 

“That’s disgusting! Your hands are probably filthy!” Harry said. 

“Now what on Earth would make you think that?” Louis huffed out, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. “This establishment is—“ 

Louis hiccupped as he waved his arms wildly and gestured at the dimly lit pub around them.

“—one hundred percent sanitary. Sterile as a hospital, really,” he finished. 

Harry snorted into his beer. 

“Ignore that,” Louis pointed to a sconce on the wall, covered in dusty cobwebs and looking very Halloween-chic. “Just needs a light dusting, is all.”

Harry laughed openly, unable to take his eyes off of Louis. He was so funny. So witty. The way he spoke was enchanting. 

“Yeah, I love Ed but I always feel like I need a scalding hot shower after being in here for longer than an hour or so,” Harry said. Louis laughed. “And that’s on a night that I didn’t perform. I feel disgusting.” 

He lifted his arm to take a whiff of his shirt, stifling a gag. 

“Oh my God, that’s terrible,” Harry laughed. He took another sip of his beer as Louis cackled next to him. “Oh, big into armpit humor, are we?” 

“I love armpit humor,” Louis responded, hiccupping again. “Live for armpit humor, really. Actually, I have a hidden talent.” He looked at Harry, speaking with the air of someone announcing something very impressive. “Would you like to see?”

“More than anything,” Harry smirked in response. He wasn’t lying.

Louis brought his hands together and cracked his knuckles. He stretched both arms across his chest as though he was preparing for some sort of Olympic trial. 

“Ready?” he asked.

“Oh yes, Lou… can’t wait to see this,” Harry said dramatically. He wasn’t sure when they’d progressed to nicknames. Whatever. Blame the tequila. “The suspense is killing me!”

Louis beamed and blushed a bit. Harry watched as he brought his right fist to his left armpit and bent his left arm at the elbow. Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. A cheeky grin spread across Louis’ face as he began flapping his arm up and down in rapid succession. He looked like an uncoordinated, amputee bird trying to take flight. 

At first, Harry was distracted by watching Louis’ muscles working – the veins in his forearm becoming more pronounced as his arm moved – but then he heard the loud farting noises emanating from his armpit. A loud cackle burst from Harry’s mouth without warning, sending the sip of beer he had just taken flying directly into Louis’ face.

Harry clapped both hands over his mouth, mortified. His watched as Louis’ arm froze and he squeezed his eyes shut, beer dripping down his forehead and onto his cheeks. Harry looked on, horrified, as Louis removed his hand from its spot in his armpit, bringing both hands to his face and slowly wiping the warm beer from his eyelids. 

He slowly cracked both eyes open and met Harry’s own. Harry stared back, completely at a loss for words. Their gaze stayed locked for about five seconds before both men burst into uncontrollable laughter. 

Harry was bent over forward on the bar, clutching his aching abs while Louis had his head thrown back next to him, laughing loudly and openly toward the ceiling, dangerously close to toppling off of his barstool. A few moments passed where neither spoke, each attempt at words bringing on a new, louder fit of hysterics. 

Harry had tears streaming down both cheeks as Louis’ hands blindly searched the bar for a napkin to wipe the remaining beer from his face and eyes.

“I dunno why you’re laughing. Payback’s a bitch,” Louis said as he tried to catch his breath, attempting to sound menacing despite his huge grin. “Argh, look at my hair! Your spitty beer’s all over it!” 

Harry erupted into another fit of giggles as Louis attempted to run a napkin over his quiff without disturbing the look. Harry didn’t have the heart to tell him that that ship had sailed hours ago.

“I am so, so sorry,” Harry finally managed to choke out. “I swear, I don’t think I’ve ever even made that noise before. It took me by surprise.” 

He stopped laughing for long enough to hand Louis a stack of fresh napkins. He looked on helplessly as Louis tried to wipe the beer from his stained shirt. 

“You should really warn someone before you start making inappropriate noises with various body parts in the middle of a pub, while people are drinking liquids,” Harry said.

“Oh, yes, of course, that was my fault entirely,” Louis said sarcastically. 

Harry instinctively reached out to lay a hand on Louis’ arm before thinking twice and pulling back. If this had been any other random stranger in a pub on any other night, he wouldn’t hesitate. Harry was very touchy when flirting. Very touchy. 

Unfortunately, this was not a random stranger. 

He had gotten so caught up in the fun they were having without stopping to consider that he was quickly becoming infatuated with Liam’s best friend. Harry was definitely into Louis – definitely into Louis – but he needed to think about Liam. Shit, where even was Liam? Harry hadn’t talked to him in a while. 

He glanced around the pub from his seat beside Louis, who was still attempting to scrub beer out of his shirt, and scanned the crowd for Liam. He was about to ask Louis when the last time he’d seen him was when he spotted Liam at a booth across the bar with… Zayn. Shit. 

Harry stood up to go interject. Zayn wasn’t usually a fan of meeting new people in pubs and he generally tried to head home pretty early. Harry was worried that he might have felt obligated to entertain Liam since he was his new brother and all. The thought sent a wave of guilt through Harry. He didn’t want to make his friends uncomfortable with this situation; this was Harry’s thing, and they shouldn’t be forced to engage unless they wanted to. 

He took a few steps in the direction of the booth but stopped short when he saw Zayn break out into a huge, genuine laugh. Interesting. Harry smiled to himself as he watched his friend talking animatedly with Liam, seemingly enjoying himself and most definitely not in need of rescue.

“Well they seem to be hitting it off, don’t they?” 

Harry could hear the smile in Louis’ voice before turning to look at him. Yes, surprisingly enough, they did. 

“Yeah, looks that way,” Harry said. 

He glanced back toward the booth skeptically before turning to face Louis.

“You okay with that?” Louis’ tone was coy. 

“Yeah, I am, it looks like he’s having fun. I’m just… surprised?” Harry answered lamely. “Nothing against Liam or anything, it’s just that Zayn doesn’t usually stay out late. Usually goes home after we finish playing or whatever. Not really into this –” Harry gestured around them, toward the many (very drunk) people crowded into The Grade 8. “—scene. He also doesn’t usually love meeting new people. But he seems to be fine with Liam.” 

Fine. Understatement of the year. Zayn was giggling.

“Liam’s kind of the same way most of the time, weirdly enough,” Louis added. “Prefers to have a quiet one in with some friends rather than hit the pubs or clubs. Seems to have taken quite the liking to Zayn though.” 

Louis raised his eyebrows as he met Harry’s gaze, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a sip and winking at Harry. 

“Quite.”

Harry laughed. He actually felt… relieved? Yes, if he was being honest, he felt a bit relieved. If Liam was into his friend, then maybe it wasn’t the absolute worst thing if Harry was into Liam’s friend. That’s how that works, right? Right.

“Hey, Louis?” 

“Yes, Harry?” 

Louis batted his eyelashes overdramatically and pasted a cheeky grin on his face. Harry was endeared.

“How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?” 

“Harry, no, this sounds awful, don’t-“

“Ten-tickles!” Harry announced loudly, his smile huge as he waited for Louis to get the joke. 

Louis groaned in response, rolling his eyes dramatically and setting his beer down hard on the bar.

“Nooooo, Harry, that was awful, never again, never again. Actually, shucks, look at the time, I think I need to be heading home now…” Louis made a show of pretending to gather his belongings and flagging down Ed, “just need to say goodbye to Ed and I’ll be going, so nice meeting you, really…”

Harry was laughing as he grabbed Louis by the upper arm and pulled him back down onto his barstool. Louis went easily in Harry’s grip. Interesting. He made a mental note of that for later.

Louis had a shit-eating grin on his face when he turned to look at Harry, crossing his arms.

“That joke was awful,” he said again, looking up at Harry from underneath his long eyelashes. “You should be embarrassed.”

“I’m not,” Harry grinned. He wasn’t.

“It really is getting late, though,” Louis frowned as he glanced at the clock. “I hadn’t even realized until just now. I should probably get going, I have a footie game at noon tomorrow and I’m already going to hate myself as it is.” 

So he was athletic. Harry made another mental note.

“Yeah, I should probably be going, too. Yoga in the morning is going to be awful.” Harry laughed as Louis’ face morphed into the same horrified look he’d had when Harry had mentioned kale in the café on Wednesday. “You should try it! You sweat out all your toxins after a night of drinking. It sucks while you’re doing it, but you feel amazing afterward. Really refreshed.”

“I would rather gouge out my eyes with a melon baller,” Louis said dryly. 

Harry laughed as Louis stood up from his barstool, stretching his arms above his head and exposing a bit of his navel above his pants. The top of his happy trail peeked out. Harry stared at the soft hair, resisting the urge to reach out and tug Louis into his side by the front of his waistband. 

“See something you like?” Louis asked flirtatiously.

He dropped his hands to his sides and popped his hip out while raising one eyebrow playfully at Harry. 

Harry felt his face flush. He could do this.

“Actually, uh, yeah, a bit,” he said, fumbling for his phone in his pocket. “Look, I’m just going to come right out and say it because I’m truly shit at playing games—” 

Louis giggled – actually giggled – bringing his hand up in front of his mouth before rearranging his lips into a straight line. Harry let out a mock-offended huff. 

“Hey! No laughing! I’m trying to be serious here!” Harry’s smile ruined any attempt at appearing irritated.

“Shit, sorry! Sorry,” Louis held both hands up in front of himself apologetically. “Please, continue.”

“I like you. I thought it might be weird or whatever because of Liam, but he seems… sufficiently preoccupied at the moment, so I thought maybe, as long as you don’t think it’s weird, which if you do, I completely understand and that’s totally fine, but if you don’t, maybe I could give you my number and we could hang out sometime?” 

Harry’s face was on fire.

“Absolutely,” Louis answered, no hesitation in his voice. “I would like that. Really.” 

His smile was almost big enough to match Harry’s. Almost. Harry felt a warmth spread through his chest, his entire body buzzing with excitement.

“Wicked,” Harry said. "What's your number?"

He mentally facepalmed himself. Wicked? What the fuck? Who says that? His game was usually better than this. Louis rattled off his phone number as Harry dialed it into his phone and called it immediately. He heard it ring in Louis’ pocket before he hung up. 

“There, now you have mine, too. Text anytime,” Harry said, putting entirely too much emphasis on the final word. Too eager? Probably. 

“Same for you,” Louis responded, smiling. “The texting, I mean. Text, like, whenever you want or whatever,” Louis said as he waved his arm wildly in the air, gesturing at nothing, a visible flush rising in his cheeks. 

“Alright then, better go pry Liam away from his new husband.”

“I’ll walk with you and grab Zayn as well,” Harry said. 

They walked across the pub to the booth together, grabbing their respective friends and saying their goodbyes. Louis and Harry shook hands. Harry hoped it looked much more platonic to everyone else than it felt to him. 

He hung on slightly longer than was necessary before dropping Louis’ hand. They shared a small smile before looking back toward the rest of the group.

“Not sure where Niall got off to… probably off buying shots for that bachelorette party in the corner,” Harry gestured to his left. “We’ll tell him goodbye for you.”

“Thanks,” Louis smiled. “I had a really, really good time tonight.” 

He gave Harry a small wave as he turned and began walking away.

“Yeah, me too. See you soon, I hope,” Harry called out as he watched Louis strut toward the door, fairly certain the sway of his hips was noticeably more pronounced than usual. Cheeky little shit.

“I’m counting on that!” Louis called back to Harry over his shoulder. He offered up a small wink before turning and exiting the pub. 

Harry felt alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it! Please feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice.


	4. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry cooks. Louis burns.
> 
> They both start to feel the heat.

******  
4.1

THE DATE  
Friday, May 1, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

 **Harry Styles, 2:38pm**  
Are you busy tomorrow night? -H

Louis smiled down at the text message. He had abruptly stopped walking in the dead center of the corridor between his boss' office and his desk. He looked like an idiot. He didn’t much care.

It had been three full hours since he had sent his last text to Harry – something about the gross tuna fish lunch that Liam had packed for him – and he had not received a response until now. Louis hadn’t been worried; Harry did have a job, after all. Well, Louis hoped that Harry still had a job. Apparently his boss had made a comment yesterday about the amount of time he was spending on his phone recently. Whoops.

Louis sighed. It wasn’t his fault he was more interesting than Harry’s work.

Either way, Louis' stomach had made that swooping feeling that he was becoming all too familiar with lately when he felt Harry’s text buzz in his pocket. He had frozen on the spot and scrambled to pull his phone from his pants, forgetting his haste to get back to his desk and resume his unfinished game of Solitaire. He had two hours left to kill until it was officially the weekend. His job was very, very important.

"Move your arse, Tommo," he heard from somewhere behind him. 

Louis lifted his head from his phone and glanced over his shoulder. His eyes landed on the bane of his existence glaring at him from behind a cart piled high with papers and envelopes. 

"Some of us have actual work to do. At least try to appear busy, no?" Ben sneered, rolling the front wheel of the cart directly over Louis’ foot as he passed.

"Oh fuck off, Ben. Don’t you have kittens to drown or something?” 

God, he hated that fucking guy. Ben was the biggest prick at his office. Scratch that, Ben was the biggest prick Louis had ever met. The world’s biggest prick. Ben was universally despised by everyone at the agency. Well, everyone with the exception of Louis’ moronic boss. 

Ben was the Joker to Louis’ Batman. The Lex Luthor to his Superman. The Hook to his Peter Pan. The Voldemort to his Harry. His official arch nemesis. 

He was just an asshole. 

Louis stepped out of the way to let Ben pass with the cart, glaring at him as he watched him stroll by. 

"Don't you have better shit to do than physically assault me with a mail cart? So immature, Winston. Tsk tsk. Better play nice, I promise I'll remember when I'm at the top." 

Louis spoke the words with an air of confidence that he wished reflected how he felt inside. Not that Ben needed to know that, though. The truth was, Ben had a job that Louis would kill for and Louis wasn't in any position to talk shit. A look at his current resume would include highlights such as: taking everyone's daily Starbucks order, making photocopies (color!) of contracts and other documents, filing said documents into filing cabinets (alphabetically or chronologically, thank you very much), and working hard toward beating his personal best time at Solitaire.

Ben flipped Louis off over his shoulder as he continued down the hallway. Louis resisted the urge to chuck his phone at the back of his head. 

Louis felt stuck. Bored, overlooked, and trapped in this shitty job with no conceivable way to grow or move up the ranks. Just the other day, he had taken his boss some information on a local band that he had seen play a few times in the hopes that he would see the same potential in them that Louis had. They were original, jazzy and bluesy with classic rock bones, and they had a female lead singer. Louis loved bands with female leads. 

There was just something about a woman's voice that helped to create a more unique sound, in his not-so-humble opinion. A strong female vocalist in a rock group could somehow manage to make a group sound edgier but softer simultaneously. 

Also, there was the fact that female-led rock groups were heinously underrepresented in the music industry, and it pissed Louis right the fuck off. He had been especially excited about this particular group, though. More than any of the others he had tried to pitch. He’d really thought he’d found something in them. 

"Oh, I didn't realize we had promoted you to A&R!" Magee had said sarcastically, taking the demo CD from Louis and turning it over in his hands. "Old You," he read from the cover. "What the fuck kind of name is that?" 

He dropped the CD into the trash beside his desk.

"They are really, really good," Louis had winced as he heard the disc hit the bottom of the metal bin. "Really, they have such a different sound and her voice is incredi--"

"Oh for fuck's sake Tomlinson, stop bringing these shitty girl-power bands you heard in some hole-in-the-wall pub to me like we're going to fucking sign them." 

Magee reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a water bottle, waving his free hand distractedly as he spoke. 

"I actually listened to that last one you brought and it sounded like someone handed five inbred chimps some instruments and started recording them. Loud and uncoordinated and just shit. Just absolute shit."

"They are local acts with no proper training,” Louis had argued as he watched Magee struggle to unscrew the cap to his bottle. “Obviously they would need some fine tuning, and most of their demos aren't recorded in studios so the quality isn't going to be that good… they sound better live… with some coaching and quality equipment I think they have potential—“

"No,” Magee had cut in. “Sorry, but no. Stick with what you're good at, Louis. Coffee. You're good at coffee. And you did a great job the other day with those packages I asked you to put together and mail. Really knocked those out. A+ work. Top shelf. Keep that up, and leave the talent scouting to A&R.” 

Louis had clenched both fists, tensing and relaxing his muscles repeatedly as he turned to walk out of Magee’s office and back toward his desk. What a dick, really. They hadn't signed a decent act in at least sixteen months. Sixteen. Their A&R department seemed solely focused on identifying shitty one-hit wonders and less interested in discovering acts with actual talent that might have some staying power beyond this week's top 40 countdown. 

It was bullshit.

That was Wednesday, and he had been so disheartened after that exchange that he’d done basically zero work since. Thursday had consisted of him texting with Harry for four solid hours and then leaving early without anyone noticing. This morning, he had gotten everyone's coffee order filled before disappearing to the loo for an hour and playing Trivia games on his phone. 

He had filled Harry in on some of his frustrations with work during their texting, but he hadn’t wanted to annoy him, so he had skipped over most of the pathetic sounding details and stuck to the basics. Boss was a dick. Ben was a dick. His desk was too small. Work was boring. But when Harry hadn't responded after his tuna fish text around lunchtime, the thought crossed his mind that maybe his complaining had finally started to wear on his nerves.

Louis looked back down to his phone, rereading Harry's message and smiling to himself despite the throbbing in his toe. If Harry wanted to take Louis out on a date, he must not be too annoyed with him. Not yet, at least. 

He typed out a quick response, his hands trembling slightly and stomach full of butterflies. He was excited.

 **2:42pm:**  
not sure that youre ready for a date with me, im proper high maintenance, i expect only the very best

 **Harry Styles, 2:43pm:**  
Hmm, weird, you didn't strike me as high maintenance. Came across as pretty easy. -H  
**Harry Styles, 2:43pm:**  
Easy-going* -H  
**Harry Styles, 2:43pm:**  
Sorry, didn't mean you seem easy. Meant easy-going. Not easy. Sorry. -H

Louis laughed as the messages arrived in quick succession. He imagined Harry sitting at his desk, frantically trying to clarify his words in case he had offended Louis. So soft. It was too easy.

 **2:44pm:**  
whoa whoa u think im easy!? what exactly are ur intentions here? i am NOT that kind of girl

 **Harry Styles, 2:45pm:**  
Oh, you're not? :( Well then, forget I even asked… -H

 **2:46pm:**  
funny. what time should I be ready? where r you taking me?

 **Harry Styles, 2:49pm:**  
Not telling. -H  
**Harry Styles, 2:49pm:**  
About where we're going, I mean. That's a surprise. But I'll pick you up at 7:30. That I can tell you. -H

Louis giggled. Giggled. Out loud. His eyes darted up and scanned the corridor to make sure no one had been around to hear that. How fucking embarrassing. 

He typed out his response as he walked slowly down the empty hallway toward his desk.

 **2:51pm:**  
oooh surprises i love surprises, can i guess? fancy dinne maybe? a movie? the cirque du soleil show? snow skiing? an african safari?

 **Harry Styles, 2:52pm:**  
Is it too late for me to rescind the invitation? -H

 **2:54pm:**  
a romantic walk on the beach? a concert? a museum?  
**2:55pm:**  
actually i want to take that last guess back, i dont want you getting any ideas… please dont take me to a museum

 **Harry Styles, 2:56pm:**  
No museums. Got it. Promise. -H

Louis checked the clock on the wall above his computer as he plopped down in his chair. He slid his phone into his pocket. Only two hours to go. He wondered if anyone would notice if he just snuck out now. 

He looked around to the surrounding cubicles to see most people with their headphones in and their heads down, working silently. He stole a quick glance toward Magee’s office to find the door closed. 

Louis quietly grabbed his car keys from his drawer as he silently stood and rolled his chair underneath his desk. He took one last quick look around before making a hasty exit toward the stairwell. He pulled his phone out as he trotted down the steps quickly and busted through the door into the parking lot, smiling when the sunlight hit his face.

 **3:05pm:**  
ill be ready at 730. ill text u my address tomorrow

 **Harry Styles, 3:06pm:**  
Can't wait. :) -H 

Louis skipped the rest of the way to his car.

 

******  
Saturday, May 2, 2015

 

"What are your plans for tonight?” Liam called to Louis from the kitchen. “I was thinking of ordering a pizza. Thought maybe you could see if Stan wants to come over."

Louis froze where he sat on the couch. His soldier got blown to smithereens by a flying grenade on the television screen in front of him. Shit.

"Uhh, actually, funny thing…”

Shit. Shit. He had neglected to tell Liam about his date with Harry. Shit. 

"…I had been meaning to talk to you about that…" 

He saw Liam look over his shoulder toward where he sat guiltily on the couch. His brow was furrowed in confusion as Louis continued.

"…I, uhh, I actually have a date," Louis mumbled. "Tonight. Must have slipped my mind."

"Oh, hey, that's great, Louis! Why didn't you tell me?" 

Louis sunk down into the couch cushion. Maybe it would swallow him. 

"Where'd you meet him?" Liam asked.

"A café," Louis said weakly. It wasn’t a lie.

"You didn't even tell me! When did this happen?" Liam looked genuinely ecstatic. Louis sunk lower.

“A few weeks ago.” 

Also not a lie.

"A few weeks? What the hell!" Liam turned to face Louis fully now, his hands still covered in soapsuds as he waved them excitedly in front of his face. "You can't just go meeting people and having dates and not tell me! You haven't been on a date in a while.” 

“I know.”

“Must be special. What's his name?"

Louis stared blankly back at Liam, the name on the tip of his tongue but refusing to actually leave his mouth.

"Louis? What's his name?" 

He watched as Liam's smile turned to confusion. Louis dropped his gaze to the floor and picked nervously at a hangnail. 

"...Louis?"

"Uhh," Louis looked up at Liam guiltily. 

He picked up a pillow from the cushion beside his on the couch and hugged it tight to his chest. He wasn’t sure if he was comforting himself or shielding himself in case Liam threw a plate at his face. He took a deep breath.

"It's Harry. It's a date with Harry. I’m going on a date with Harry."

Liam stared at Louis from the kitchen, soapsuds starting to fall from his wet hands onto the tile floor. Louis held his breath and braced himself. He hadn't meant for Liam to find out this way. He should have told him yesterday, he should have told him they had been talking since that night at the pub, should have told him he really, really liked him--

"Okay?" Liam said, the confused look still painted on his face.

"Okay?" Louis repeated. "Okay? What does that mean?"

"It means... okay," Liam said, grabbing a dishtowel and wiping his dripping hands. "I mean, I kind of wish you would've told me before right now, but… it's okay."

"You're okay with it? You mean, you don't mind?" Louis felt the heavy weight that had settled on his shoulders lift slightly as he watched a small smile form around Liam's lips. "He's your brother. You told me you didn't want me flirting with him--"

"No, I said I didn't want you flirting with him in front of me. Big difference," Liam said. "And telling me you think he's hot. And talking to me about his abs. I don't need to hear that. I could tell you liked him, though. I’m not an idiot. Or blind."

"I should have told you we've been talking, I'm really sorry." 

Louis began picking at a loose thread on the pillow, still avoiding Liam's gaze. He wasn't great with apologies. 

"And I should have told you when he asked me out yesterday. You're sure you're fine with it?"

"Yeah, I am, I promise," Liam smiled genuinely at Louis before turning his back toward him and resuming the dishes. "You're my best friend, he's… my brother, I guess, and if the two of you like each other, it’s cool. Just want you to be happy."

Louis stood up from the couch and walked quickly across the flat, enveloping Liam in a tight hug from behind. He wrapped both arms around Liam's chest and squeezed annoyingly tight, burying his face between Liam’s shoulder blades.

"Thank you," Louis said, the words muffled by the fabric of Liam's shirt. "You're the best best friend a best friend could ask for."

"Lou, you're suffocating me, get the fuck off," Liam wheezed out, his soapy hands reaching up to pull Louis’ arms away. Louis gave one final squeeze before letting go. "What time is he picking you up?"

"7:30. Shit, that reminds me, I need to text him our address." 

Louis jogged over to the couch to dig for his phone between the cushions, firing off a text to Harry with his address and flat number.

"Damn, I won't be here,” Liam said as he piled the last of the clean dishes by the sink to dry.  
I have that boxing class from 6:30 to 7:30 tonight.”

"Who the fuck works out on a Saturday night?" 

Louis was appalled that there was even a class scheduled for that time slot. Weekends were for rest and relaxation. And drinking.

"I like it, it’s less crowded than on the weekdays," Liam said. Louis made a disgusted face and flopped back down onto the couch, resuming his video game. All his soldiers were dead. "Tell Harry I said sorry I missed him. Where are you going? What are you gonna wear?"

Louis thought for a moment. He hadn't properly considered his outfit until now. He had an idea – his tightest jeans, his favorite band tee and a fitted blazer – but he hadn't considered that he had no idea where they were even going. What if they were going to be outside? 

He looked out the window to see the sky cloudy and threatening rain. Surely, Harry would have told him if they were going to be outdoors. 

He thought about his original outfit choice, wondering if it might be too informal for whatever Harry had planned. If they were going somewhere fancy, Harry probably would have told Louis that he needed to dress up. Probably.

"It's a surprise. He hasn't told me yet."

"How romantic!" Liam said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"And as for what I'm wearing," Louis ignored him, "I'm not sure quite yet. Had something in mind but I might reevaluate it."

"Oooh! Fashion show! Fashion show! Fashion-show-at-lunch!" Liam chanted. Louis rolled his eyes as he pushed himself off the couch and headed toward his room. He acted irritated as he passed Liam. He loved the attention. "Let me help you pick!"

"Fine, fine, you can help me choose," Louis huffed out. "But I reserve the right to make all final decisions. Otherwise, you'll have me in some flannel monstrosity.”

Liam threw the dishtowel he was holding at the back of Louis' head as he walked by. Louis' phone buzzed with a text message notification as he began rifling through his messy closet, pulling out options and laying them on the bed.

 **Harry Styles, 1:17pm:**  
Great, I'm sure my GPS will get me there no problem. Really looking forward to tonight. Pinky promise it's not a museum. -H

 **1:17pm:**  
im actually picking out my outfit right now, can u at least tell me if i need to be dressed for the outdoors or for hot or for cold or fancy or casual or what  
**1:17pm:**  
plus i don’t want to be overdressed or underdressed and look like an idiot

 **Harry Styles, 1:19pm:**  
You will look great in whatever you decide, I promise. -H

Louis’ stomach swooped happily as his eyes read the words. He tossed his phone onto the bed next to the pile of clothes, more determined than before to choose something that would make Harry's jaw drop when he laid eyes on him tonight. 

He tugged on his first-choice outfit. He rolled up the sleeves of his blazer and ran his hands through his hair before opening his bedroom door to shout to Liam.

"Alright, Payno, outfit number one is up! Prepare to feast your eyes on what can only be described as pure, unadulterated, sex appeal."

 

******  
4.2

THE DATE  
Saturday, May 2, 2015

HARRY  
******

 

"The destination is on the left."

Harry pulled up in front of the brick building. He swiped his finger across the screen to exit the GPS app and pocketed his phone as he cut off the car. He was nervous. Definitely, truly, properly nervous. It had been a long time since he had been nervous for a date. So long, actually, that he’d forgotten what it felt like.

He flipped his visor down and readjusted his headscarf in the small mirror, attempting to tame his unruly curls. It had been raining all week which made the air warm and humid, causing his hair to tighten up into bouncy, wild ringlets all over his head. He ran a finger through them and attempted to untangle the windblown mess. He should really get his air conditioning fixed.

Harry climbed out of the car and headed toward the front door of the building. He opened his text thread with Louis and scrolled up to find the directions he’d sent over earlier. He had to scroll for a long time. Too long, really, considering it had only been a few hours since he’d sent them. They had been texting a lot.

“Up the stairs and take a left, second door on the right, number 204,” Harry mumbled. 

He entered the brick building and started up the staircase. The carpet looked old and worn. He tried to ignore some questionable stains splattered across the bottom three steps. Maybe it was coffee? Or blood. The building smelled like lemon cleaner and faint traces of cigarette smoke.

He took the stairs two at a time, panting a bit by the time he reached the landing at the top. Way to play it cool, Styles. 

He wiped his clammy palms on his black jeans. He really was nervous.

Harry took off down the corridor and stopped abruptly in front of a flat marked 204. The number was scribbled directly on the door in what looked to be Sharpie marker. A lopsided knocker hung by one screw. He scanned the hallway looking at the surrounding flats. Every other door seemed to have a fully functional knocker and actual metal numbers instead of Sharpie.

Harry smiled to himself as he turned back around. How fitting that this was Louis’ door. Everything about him seemed like bottled chaos. Harry loved it.

He raised his fist to knock, butterflies flittering wildly in his stomach, but the door flew open before his hand could make contact. Two crinkly blue eyes looked up at him from underneath a mess of brown hair.

“Hi!” Louis chirped as he raised one hand to give a small, sheepish wave.

“Are you psychic?!” Harry said.

His eyes were wide as he drank Louis in. He was wearing an Adidas t-shirt under a fitted, black blazer. A pair of black skinnies that seemed even tighter than the ones he wore to the pub, if that was even possible. Black vans with no socks, his cute little ankles exposed. Hair messy and shooting off in every direction with his fringe swept to the side, partially covering his forehead. God, he was hot.

“What?” Louis asked as he raised one eyebrow in confusion. He lowered his hand. “Psychic? What are you on about?”

“You knew I was here before I even knocked,” Harry explained. “How did you do that? It’s possible you have psychic tendencies and aren’t even aware. When’s your birthday? What’s your sign?”

Louis was staring blankly at Harry, unblinking, his mouth slowly opening and closing without making any sounds.

“Are you a Cancer?” Harry asked. “They are often quite in tune with the supernatural.”

“Oh, yes, I’m very psychic,” Louis nodded seriously. “It usually takes people ages to pick up on it, though. I’m very impressed.”

“Really?”

“No you idiot, I saw you pull up from the front window,” Louis said as he shook his head. 

“’Psychic tendencies,’ honestly, are you shitting me, Harold.”

Louis rolled his eyes and turned on one heel. Harry watched Louis’ ass bounce as he walked into the flat and disappeared around the corner, leaving Harry alone at the door. It was a really nice ass.

“Heyyy, I’m serious, Lou—“ Harry winced a bit as the nickname slipped out. He kept talking in the hopes that Louis wouldn’t notice. “—Certain people really are more prone to those types of things. I’ve read books on it and stuff. My aunt actually had a ghost in her attic—“

“Are you seriously still outside?” he heard Louis call out from somewhere in the flat. “Come in and shut the bloody door before my crazy neighbor hears you. If Mildred catches your ear she’ll never shut up. We’ll be late to…”

Louis trailed off as he peeked his head around the corner. Harry stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

“…well, actually, where are we going?” Louis grinned mischievously.

Harry hadn’t told Louis where he was taking him tonight for a few reasons. First, Harry loved surprises. He loved getting surprises, but more than that, he loved giving surprises.

Second, Harry got the feeling that Louis was… a bit opinionated, at times. Like, all the time. They had been texting steadily since exchanging numbers last week and the majority of his texts consisted of him complaining or ranting to Harry about something at work, or explaining to Harry why whatever he’d just texted Louis was the worst sounding thing he’d ever heard. Not that Harry minded. He really enjoyed talking to Louis. Really.

That being said, he had not been convinced that he could sell Louis on this particular idea ahead of time, so he’d opted instead to keep it a secret. It seemed a bit outside of Louis’ normal wheelhouse of interests, but Harry was confident that if he could just get Louis there and if he would just give it a chance, he would enjoy himself. Maybe even learn something in the process.  
Plus, Harry could show off a bit. Never a bad thing on a first date.

“Still not telling you,” Harry smiled.

Louis pouted and flipped Harry his middle finger as he disappeared back around the corner. 

Harry stood awkwardly in the entryway and rocked back and forth on his heels, scanning what he could see of the flat. It was cute. Lots of mismatched furniture that looked worn but comfortable. Some free weights lying in the floor in front of the television alongside some discarded Xbox controllers. 

He heard a loud commotion from the other side of the wall.

“Need any help in there?” Harry called out, growing slightly concerned for Louis’ safety as more loud banging and clanging ensued.

“Nope, all good, just grabbing a drink of water before we head out,” Louis chirped over the noise.

He had no idea which part of drinking water could be creating the ruckus coming from the kitchen, but then again, Louis’ existence in general was loud loud loud. Harry loved it. His chest warmed as he heard another loud crash followed by a muttered “shit!” just loud enough to be heard.

Since Louis seemed thoroughly distracted at the moment, Harry seized the opportunity to meander around the flat. It was definitely messier than Harry’s. Not dirty, exactly, but definitely messy. Discarded pairs of shoes lay strewn about the floor beside the couch or kicked into corners. 

The sofa looked old but comfortable with blankets balled up on every cushion. There was, what seemed to be, at least, a large bloodstain peeking out from underneath one of the throw pillows. Harry made a quick mental note to avoid that particular seat.

There was a tall bookshelf in the corner with nothing but pictures displayed (why wasn’t he surprised that Louis wasn’t an avid reader?) Harry wandered over to the shelf to scan the photos. Pictures of Louis and Liam going back years and years, pictures of Louis at football games, pictures of Liam at concerts and theater productions. 

Harry stopped short as his eyes landed on one picture in particular, his breath catching in his throat.

“Alright, I think I’m finally ready,” he heard Louis announce from somewhere behind him. “Had a minor incident with a water glass but no worries, got it all straightened out.”

Harry didn’t turn around. Instead, he kept his eyes locked on the photograph in front of him and brought one hand up to touch the glass. He felt Louis sidle up next to him, glancing back and forth between Harry and the picture.

“You alright?”

“Liam’s parents.”

The words came out quieter than he had meant them to. He cleared his throat.

“First time I’ve actually seen them,” he said as he picked up the frame and examined the photo.

Louis made a soft sound of acknowledgement beside him. The picture was of Liam and his parents at what he assumed to be Liam’s graduation ceremony.

“Yeah, Liam mentioned that you guys hadn’t actually spoken yet,” Louis said. “You and them, I mean.”

Harry could feel Louis’ eyes on him as he studied the faces staring up at him from behind the glass. He had thought about these people so often over the years – what they might be like, what they might look like – and now he was holding them in his hands.

“I’m not sure why… it seems like both of us, me and them, we are both a bit…” Harry trailed off as he searched for the right words, “…hesitant? For some reason talking to them and meeting them feels so much different than meeting Liam.”

He sat the frame back on the bookcase and avoided Louis’ eyes as he scanned the rest of the pictures.

“With Liam it felt like… I don’t know how to explain it. It was exciting, you know? A brother I didn’t know about, how cool is that? Someone close to my age and it turned out we shared the same interests and it’s almost like getting a cool, new friend. It just felt like there were no negatives, you know? No sadness, no downside.”

Harry spoke slower than usual despite how the words were tumbling out of him. He was surprised. He didn’t normally open up to new people about the big things in his life. Louis just made it so easy.

“Everything about meeting Liam was a bonus for me,” he said. “Probably because I didn’t even know he existed. I always knew I had birth parents somewhere, but I never knew I had a brother. Was so cool to find that out.”

He hunched forward and looked at the pictures on the bottom shelf, spotting one of Liam and his dad drinking bright drinks on a beach somewhere. He picked it up.

“These people, though… I’ve known about them and wondered about them for basically my whole life. Even though my life is amazing and I wouldn’t change it for anything, I still have questions, you know? Still want to know things. That’s normal for adopted kids, I’ve read books about it,” Harry glanced sideways at Louis and gave him a quick smile before turning back to the photo. “But there are still questions. Why didn’t they keep me? Do they think about me? Why didn’t they tell Liam about me?”

Harry trailed off and scrunched his nose. He leaned down and placed the frame back in it’s spot on the bottom shelf.

“I want to meet them, I do. Want to get to know them. It’s just not as easy as it was with Liam. And I’m sure it’s that way for them, too. Happy, and exciting, but complicated.”

“You know, Liam hasn’t even really talked to them about it since they told him,” Louis said quietly.

Harry was surprised by his voice. It had taken on a quieter, gentler tone that he hadn’t heard before.

“I think he’s got a lot of questions for them, too. But their relationship is kind of…” Louis trailed off. “…weird, I guess?”

Harry looked over at Louis. He wanted to hear more, but he didn’t want to ask and overstep his boundaries. He didn’t want to put Louis in an uncomfortable situation. Louis kept talking anyway.

“They get along great and his parents are real sweet,” he explained. “They just struggle to communicate. It’s kind of weird for me since I talk to my mum about everything. Told her when I smoked my first joint. Fucked my first girl. Told her when I hated it, too.” Louis smiled cheekily up at Harry. “But Liam and his parents’ relationship is just more superficial. Don’t’ really talk about the deep stuff.”

Louis’ eyes were locked onto Harry’s face, causing him to flush under the intensity of his gaze. He looked back down at the bookshelf one more time and sighed.

“Well, I’m sure it will all get sorted eventually,” Harry said, attempting to sound lighthearted. 

“Just sounds like none of us are ready quite yet. I’m just going to focus on Liam, for now.”

“I don’t really know what to say,” Louis said awkwardly. “To you or to Liam. But don’t think that I don’t want to talk to you about it, ‘cause I do. I just don’t have any experience with it. Any advice I’d offer up would probably be shit anyway, so I won’t even try.”

Harry shook his head and laughed. Louis wasn’t giving himself enough credit.

“I have been really impressed with both of you, though,” he said through a smile. “I’m not sure I’d be quite as chill about finding out I had a secret sibling. Probably would have lost my shit. Go off the deep end. Pull a Lindsay Lohan, be a total nightmare.”

“You already are a total nightmare,” Harry grinned.

Louis made an offended huffing noise and punched Harry playfully on the arm. Mood officially lifted.

“So, are you ready to leave or what?” Louis asked. “Or is this the big surprise? Standing in my shitty flat for hours and hours, staring at pictures of Liam?”

“I don’t think your flat is shitty,” Harry said, furrowing his brow. “I quite like it, actually. It’s eclectic.”

Louis barked out a laugh causing deep crinkles to form at the corners of his eyes.

“Ha, yes, eclectic… we’ll go with that,” he responded.

Louis led them both out the door and down the corridor. Harry followed closely behind, catching small whiffs of Louis’ aftershave in his wake. He smelled amazing. Harry wanted to pick him up and pin him to the wall and smell every inch of his skin as he completely devoured him, piece by piece.

“After you,” he said instead. He pasted on his most charming smile as he opened the front door of the building and gestured toward the sidewalk outside. “Your chariot awaits.”

“Oh, my chariot,” Louis said as he batted his eyes playfully. “How posh. I had no idea what treasures where in store for me when I agreed to this date with you.”

He smiled and stood on the sidewalk, waiting for Harry to catch up. 

“Oh yes, prepare to be awed,” Harry said as he walked toward the passenger door of his old Honda. He turned the key to unlock it. “If you’ll notice, this is a vintage paint job not available on newer models. Very exclusive.”

“Ah, yes, I see,” Louis nodded seriously. He ran one hand over the exposed metal on the roof. Years of abuse from the sun and rain and snow had completely disintegrated the paint. “Vintage. Very chic.”

Harry smirked as he watched Louis climb in, shutting the door gently behind him. He walked around to the driver’s side and inserted the key into the lock. He opened the door and settled in behind the wheel.

“No power locks on the doors,” Harry said as he dramatically swept his hand toward Louis’ side of the car. “Much safer that way. Harder to break into.”

“Is that true? I don’t think that’s true,” Louis smiled.

“I have no idea.”

Harry rummaged around on his keyring in search of the one that would start the engine. He had far too many keys.

“One fully functional windshield wiper. Two fully functional cup holders. Your seat even reclines if you pull on this lever,” Harry said as he pointed toward the small black handle sticking out from underneath Louis’ seat by the floorboard. “Well, if you pull on this lever at the right angle.”

Louis ooohh’d and aaahh’d from the passenger seat, acting very impressed with the lack of basic standard features.

“Does it have brakes?” he asked sarcastically as he buckled himself in.

Harry ignored him and turned the car on, immediately cracking both front windows to allow some fresh air inside. He turned and looked over his shoulder as he reversed out of the parking space.

“As you can see, no air conditioning,” Harry said. “You know, more environmentally friendly that way. Try to contain your excitement, though. It makes me uncomfortable when people act too impressed by all of this. I put my pants on one leg at a time, just like you.”

Louis was laughing openly now as he mashed various buttons on the dashboard, totally screwing up all of Harry’s pre-set radio stations. Bottled chaos, Harry smiled to himself.

“I truly am impressed,” Louis smirked. “Despite the fact that this Flintstone-era vehicle is a complete and utter piece of shit, it smells amazing in here. Mine is newer than this but it smells like the inside of my dirty footie bag.”

Louis finally settled on a station and dropped his hand to his lap. Harry watched as he raised both legs up and pressed the soles of his shoes against the dashboard in front of him. He leaned his head back against the headrest and smiled lazily at Harry.

“Well, do you leave your dirty footie bag in it?” Harry asked dryly.

Louis didn’t answer. Instead, he reached over to the dash and turned the volume up to a level that was entirely too loud for the small car. He began singing obnoxiously as he landed a swift and playful punch to Harry’s bicep. The horrible pop song blasted from his old speakers as they turned onto the main road.

Harry smiled for the rest of the drive.

 

******  
4.3

THE DATE  
Saturday, May 2, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

“You’re joking right?”

Louis’ mouth fell open as the door shut behind him. He looked to his left to see Harry grinning at him.

“A cooking class?”

“It’s going to be fun,” Harry said.

“I don’t cook.”

“All the more reason to take a cooking class. Have you ever done one?”

Harry took off walking toward the table nearest the door. Louis turned his head back toward the room in front of him. It contained six large tables in total, each one covered with all sorts of unfamiliar metal equipment and machines, some of which looked alarmingly like medieval torture devices. 

Louis reached down and picked up a heavy, iron hammer with spikes all over the front.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked, dropping the weapon back onto the table. “You could kill someone with this.”

“A meat tenderizer,” Harry laughed. “You use it to, well, tenderize meat. You can pound your meat until—“

“Oh my God,” Louis interrupted. He looked up at Harry from where they stood side by side at their station. “Oh my God, if you’re expecting me to survive this, which is already highly unlikely, I am going to need you to stop saying things like pound your meat.”

He watched as Harry’s face split into a playful smile. Louis reached down and picked up the beige apron laid out in front of him, slipping the thin strap over his neck.

“Have you really never taken a cooking class before?” Harry asked under his breath as the instructor introduced herself at the front of the room.

“I told you, I don’t cook,” Louis muttered as he fumbled with the apron strings behind his back. “What the fuck, why won’t these reach?”

“Turn around,” Harry sighed. A small, amused grin played at the corners of his lips.

Louis huffed out an indignant “fine” under his breath before turning to let Harry fasten his apron. He felt his large hands working at the base of his spine, his fingers slow and deliberate as he tied the strings into a perfect bow. Louis glanced over his shoulder as he finished, nodding in approval before turning to face the front.

“Thanks,” he said. “Nice apron, by the way. How’d you get the only not-boring one in here? Everyone else has these dumb beige ones.”

He drank Harry in, his green apron pulled tight across his slender hips. God, he was even hot in an apron.

“I brought it from home,” Harry said happily, as though bringing your own apron to a cooking class on a first date was the most normal thing in the world. “Do you like it?”

Louis giggled loudly and clapped one hand over his mouth as the instructor shot him a disapproving look. He hoped she wasn’t saying anything important. He hadn’t listened to a word.

“Mr. Good Lookin’ is Cookin’,” Louis read the words quietly from the front of Harry’s apron. “Are you fucking serious? You actually own this monstrosity? Full-time own it?”

Harry playfully scooped a bit of flour from the open canister in front of him and flicked it into Louis’ hair.

“Shut up and pay attention or you’re not going to know what we’re supposed to be doing,” he scolded. 

Louis fought back a retort and attempted to stifle the stupid grin that was taking up permanent residence on his face. He glanced toward the front of the room to catch the tail end of the instructor explaining the dish that they would be preparing.

“—chicken wrapped in Parma ham, stuffed with mozzarella, with a side of homemade mash,” she said. “Alright, let’s get cooking!”

 

******

 

Louis was sweating.

He had been extremely annoying earlier, begging Harry to let him use the meat tenderizer after their exchange at the beginning of class and insisting that he could pound meat better than Harry. Turns out that pounding tough chicken breasts with a heavy iron mallet was difficult work. His arm was aching and he was sweating. It didn’t help that there were six ovens preheating simultaneously throughout the classroom.

He had caused a bit of a scene during the meat-pounding portion, cursing loudly as Harry laughed beside him. He had watched in amusement as Louis had attempted to soften the tough chicken breasts to no avail. Stupid fucking meat tenderizer.  
The couples at the other stations were working quietly together; some taking diligent notes as the instructor spoke, others cleaning their station as they went.

Louis and Harry’s station looked like a bomb went off.

The instructor had asked for one person at each table to prepare the egg wash while the other shook out a thin layer of flour onto the cutting boards. Harry had seemed slightly apprehensive to let Louis do anything involving the flour, especially since this particular task involved dumping it out in carefully measured portions. 

He handed Louis a bowl with three eggs inside.

“Here, I’ll prepare the flour if you work on the egg wash,” Harry had said.  
Louis had taken the bowl full of eggs and stared blankly up at Harry.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he hissed under his breath as he watched Harry reach for the flour.

He was trying to keep his voice low. The instructor had openly chastised them earlier after Louis had tried to slap Harry across the face with a piece of ham, which had prompted a loud cackle from Harry and some irritated looks from the couples at the surrounding stations.

“You crack them, obviously,” Harry whispered, attempting not to laugh at Louis’ complete uselessness.

Louis dumped the contents of the bowl out onto the table in front of him. Eggs rolled wildly in every direction as he attempted to stop them from flying right off the side. He was too slow on one, helpless as he watched it fall from the edge of the table and crash to the floor, yolk splattering all over his right shoe.

“Shit!” he muttered, scanning the room quickly to see if anyone had noticed. Harry burst into a fit of giggles beside him as Louis repeated “Shit! Shit!” under his breath.

“Shit, now we only have two eggs,” Louis whispered. “Does that matter? Will that be okay?”

“We can just ask for another egg, Lou,” Harry said as he raised his arm to flag down the instructor.

“No! No,” Louis protested.

He wrapped his fingers around Harry’s wrist and pulled his arm down to his side. He ran his thumb over Harry’s forearm, his finger moving voluntarily over the smooth skin as he held his arm in place. He felt Harry shiver slightly in response. Louis cleared his throat.

“No, then she’ll come over here and see that I dropped an egg,” he explained, releasing Harry’s wrist. “She already thinks we are fuck-ups back here, let’s just not say anything. I’m sure we’ll be fine with two.”

Harry looked skeptical.

“But the recipe calls for three—“

“Three, two, basically the same,” Louis waved his hand dismissively in front of him. “Recipes are really more like guidelines, anyway. It’s going to be fine.”

He had no idea if that was true. He reached down and picked up the first egg, cracking it haphazardly on the edge of the bowl and sending shell fragments flying along with the yolk.

“Shit,” he mumbled again. Surely he was setting a record for the most cursing ever done on a first date. 

He attempted to fish out the pieces of broken shell with his fingers without contaminating the yolks. He heard Harry’s low chuckle from beside him as he scrunched his face up in disgust and lifted the bit of shell out with his finger. It was covered in egg goo.

He suddenly felt Harry’s presence behind him, his body close but not actually touching Louis, his breath hot on the back of his neck as he leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“Why don’t you just let me take care of those real quick.”

Louis shivered as Harry’s breath blew faintly over his ear, causing goosebumps to rise on the side of his neck. He felt a hot pull in his gut as Harry placed a hand on his hip, gently nudging Louis to the side and out of his way. Louis went easily.

He watched as Harry picked up the other egg and cracked it one-handedly, his long fingers working to pull the shell apart in perfect halves. The yolk spilled out and took no bits of shell into the bowl with it.

“Showoff,” Louis whispered flirtatiously as he bumped his hip against Harry’s.

Harry grinned in response, his dimple deepening as he went back to his side of the station and continued spreading the flour on the cutting board. Louis looked down at the bowl of yolks as the instructor passed by.

“Make sure you whisk those for at least one full minute,” she said. “You want to be sure they’re the proper consistency before you wash the chicken breasts.”

Louis looked down at the arsenal of tools laid out in front of him. He didn’t want to continue asking Harry for help – he felt like he had been the most annoying first date ever, completely helpless when it came to cooking – so he surveyed the equipment silently and hoped the whisk would magically jump out at him. It didn’t.

Harry’s hand came into view from beside him, silently tapping the handle of a tool that looked like a hot air balloon. He smirked as Louis picked up the whisk and turned it over in his hand. How the fuck does one whisk?

“Uh, Harry,” Louis stood on his tiptoes to whisper into his ear. “How do you whisk?”

Harry chuckled and looked down at Louis fondly. He felt his chest expand under his warm gaze, confident that whatever Harry was feeling toward him at that moment was decidedly not annoyance. 

He watched as Harry reached out and wrapped his fingers around Louis’ hand. He guided it to the bowl and dropped the whisk into the egg yolks. Louis allowed Harry to work their hands and the tool together quickly, his motions sure and controlled, the yolks mixing together in the bowl underneath.

“Just like that,” Harry instructed. “You can do it.”

Louis dropped the whisk into the bowl and began flicking his wrist quickly, attempting to mimic Harry’s movements from before. Egg flew over the side and onto the front of his shirt. 

“Shit,” he groaned. 

Harry snorted loudly as Louis reached for a paper towel to wipe the egg off.

“Here, let’s switch stations,” he offered. 

Thank Christ. Louis now had egg on his pants and his shirt. He never wanted to see another raw egg for as long as he lived. He swapped spots with Harry to allow him to finish whisking.

“Thank you,” Louis sighed. “What am I supposed to be doing over here?” 

It looked like Harry had covered each of the three cutting boards in a thin layer of flour. 

“Just continue adding flour to each cutting board, smoothing it out as you go. Careful though, it comes out fas—“ 

Harry stopped short as Louis turned the canister over above the first cutting board, accidentally dumping out far more than intended. A cloud of flour puffed up around him.

Louis coughed and shook his head, watching flour particles fall from his bangs. 

“I’m sorry, shit, I have no idea what I’m doing in case you couldn’t tell.” 

Harry was cackling next to him as Louis attempted to scoop off the excess flour into his hands and dump it back into the canister. It was just creating a bigger mess. 

“Shit,” Louis said for the millionth time. “Shut up! It’s not funny! The extent of my cooking experience was, like, pouring cereal before tonight.” 

Louis was giggling as he said the words. He watched tears well up in Harry’s crinkled eyes as he laughed, more flour dumping onto the floor around them. Louis felt a thin layer coating his face as well. He was sure he looked ridiculous. 

Harry took the damp towel he had been using to wipe his hands and dabbed it gently on the tip of Louis’ nose.

“You are a disaster,” he said as he smiled down at Louis, dragging the fabric over each cheek. “A complete disaster.” 

Louis closed his eyes and allowed Harry to wipe the towel over his skin, feeling much better once his face was clean. They both looked down at their station. It looked like a flour bomb had detonated.

Harry took the lead after that, dipping the chicken breasts into the egg wash and turning them over gently on the cutting boards to thinly coat them in the flour mixture. Louis mostly just watched him work, handing him things as he needed them but staying mainly in the background. He didn’t mind. The class had provided them wine and he was more than content to sit on his stool and watch Harry work. 

He was just so, so beautiful. Curls held out of his face with the same green headscarf from the pub, a bit of flour smudged across his cheek, his lips pinker than usual from biting them in concentration. 

Louis sipped his wine lazily and admired the view.

When it came time to stuff the chicken with the cheese, Harry insisted that Louis help. He was hesitant – they had finally gotten into a working rhythm (aka: Harry working and Louis drinking) – and were no longer causing a ruckus in the back of the classroom. It had been twenty whole minutes since Louis had seen any other couples shoot them disapproving looks for being too loud or spilling ingredients everywhere. He didn’t want to break their streak.

Harry wouldn’t take no for an answer, though, explaining to Louis that this was the last step before putting the food in the oven to cook. He seemed to think that Louis was going to be able to use the skills they were learning here in his own kitchen after they left. Hilarious. He didn’t have the heart to tell Harry that this disastrous experience had only strengthened his resolve to live entirely off of takeout for the rest of his life.

They each placed one of the chicken entrees in front of them and prepared to stuff the open side with mozzarella. 

“Don’t want to intimidate you, Styles, but I’m talented when it comes to packing a lot into small holes,” Louis said cheekily. 

Harry snorted, nearly spitting out the sip of wine he’d just taken. 

“Got a lot of experience with that, have you?” Harry asked playfully. He scooped up a handful of mozzarella and began to cram it into the center of the meat.

“Oh, yeah, loads,” Louis smirked. 

He imitated Harry’s action and stuffed a small amount of cheese into the opening, taking extra care not to break through the other side. The instructor had been very clear that doing so would result in the cheese running out of the dish and creating a huge mess during the cooking process. He was determined not to fuck up at least one thing tonight.

“Hmm, wouldn’t have guessed,” Harry said through a grin. Louis huffed indignantly, resisting the urge to throw a ball of cheese at his face.

“I’ll have you know that I’m packing this cheese like a right professional over here,” Louis said. “My hands are covered in white stuff, but again, plenty of experience with that…” 

Harry barked out a shocked laugh, his whole body shaking and causing his fingers to break through the other side of the dish.

“Oh fucking hell,” he muttered.

Louis watched gleefully as cheese spilled out the other side of the chicken and into the pan. He looked down to his own dish, still intact and perfect.

“You did that shit! I did that good, you did that shit!” 

He cackled and clapped his hands together happily as Harry shook his head at Louis, trying not to smile. He was aware everyone in the room was staring at him after his outburst but he didn’t care. He cooked better than Harry. It was official. He was a chef.

“Alright, alright,” Harry said, pretending to be irritated. “You are an actual nightmare, you know that?”

“You may have mentioned it once or twice,” Louis smiled. 

He leaned down and pulled open the oven door, sliding his dish onto the empty rack. Harry followed immediately after. 

“Don’t fight it, Hazza. You know you love it.” 

Harry’s smile grew so big it looked painful.

“I do,” he said.

Louis burned the chicken.

 

******  
4.4

THE DATE  
Saturday, May 2, 2015

HARRY  
******

 

Harry parked the car in front of Louis’ flat and glanced to his left to watch Louis unbuckle his seatbelt. He still had a light dusting of flour in his hair. He was a walking disaster. Harry was completely enamored with him.

He climbed out of the car and waited for Louis to do the same before falling into step beside him on the way up to the building. His stomach groaned loud enough for Louis to hear, prompting him to turn around and arch an eyebrow at Harry.

“How can you be hungry, those burgers were enormous,” Louis said.

Another groan from Harry’s stomach.

“Not hungry… miserable,” Harry said, rubbing his middle with one hand. “I don’t eat fast food often. My stomach’s mad at me.” 

Louis scoffed. 

“Well we could have eaten that fancy cheesy ham chicken thing if someone hadn’t burned it…” 

Louis huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Someone was distracting me,” Louis said, pretending to be irritated. 

“Either way, I feel awful,” Harry said. “All that grease. I need something green.”

“Wouldn’t know what that’s like,” Louis said happily. “Made of iron, this is.” 

Harry watched as Louis patted his bulging stomach twice before resuming the climb up the steps. It was adorable.

“Yeah, well, not all of us can eat absolute shit on a daily basis and stay as fit as you,” Harry said. 

Was that too forward? Oh well, Harry didn’t really care. He was buzzed on wine and Louis was fit as fuck and deserved to be told as much every single day. Louis glanced over his shoulder and blushed, smiling as he met Harry’s eyes.

“You think I’m fit?” he asked, clearly embarrassed.

“Uh…” Harry said, not sure how to respond. “Yes? I mean, look at you? You’re so… compact.” 

Louis laughed loudly.

“Compact?” 

“Yeah, like, tight,” Harry said, bringing his hands together to try to illustrate just how tight. “Wait, that sounded wrong.” 

Louis was laughing as they reached his door. Harry took a deep breath. Honesty is the best policy, he told himself. 

“You’re gorgeous. Top to bottom, you’re gorgeous.” 

Louis’s cheeks blushed deep red as he shook his head in embarrassment. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, Curly. Besides, you’re just trying to flatter me so I’ll put out,” he joked. “I told you I’m not that kind of girl.” 

Louis dropped his eyes to the floor. Harry got the feeling that he struggled to take a compliment. He was going to have to work on changing that.

“I am really sorry that tonight was kind of a disaster,” Harry said. “I hope you had fun anyway. It went a bit differently in my head when I was planning it, to be honest.” 

“No, surely not,” Louis said sarcastically. “What could have possibly gone differently? Everything went so smooth.” 

“Well, for starters, in my mind I didn’t need to clean flour off your eyelids. I also didn’t imagine that you’d ruin both a shirt and a pair of pants by splattering egg yolk all over them. Or that you’d forget to watch the timer and come entirely too close to starting a kitchen fire that would kill everyone inside the building,” Harry rattled off. 

Louis’ eyes sparkled, his smile growing as Harry talked. 

“Sounds to me like it all went exactly according to plan,” Louis laughed.

“I want to try again,” Harry said quickly. “Make it up to you, take you somewhere you’ll actually enjoy.”

“I did enjoy this!” Louis protested. “I just wasn’t very good at it. But I did enjoy it.” 

He punched Harry lightly in the bicep and blushed slightly as he dragged his toe against the carpet. Harry wanted to lean down and kiss him. He wanted to do a lot of things to him, actually, but more than anything, he wanted to do this right. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. He had never met anyone like Louis. Louis was special. 

“Hey, do you have plans tomorrow?” Harry asked as an idea struck.

“Uh… no?” Louis said, confused. “It’s Sunday, I normally just lay on the couch most of the day and try to avoid human contact.”

“I was thinking, if you don’t have plans, I could try to make this up to you… I have an idea I think you’ll like more than cooking.”

“I told you, you don’t need to make anything up to me,” Louis argued. “But… I wouldn’t absolutely hate seeing you tomorrow, either, so…” 

Harry smiled coyly. He wouldn’t hate that either.

“…So in that case, yes, I had an awful time tonight and I am going to need you to take me somewhere tomorrow to make it up to me,” Louis said.

“Can you be ready at six?” Harry asked.

“Sure, do I need to eat dinner first?” 

“Oh, uh, actually, I meant six, like, six in the morning,” Harry’s voice trailed off as he saw Louis’ face turned from excitement to horror.

“Six in the morning? Have you lost your fucking mind?”

“It’s a bit of a drive… if you don’t want to go, I completely understand,” Harry explained, hoping he would be able to convince Louis that it was worth the early wake up time. “I’ll even get you breakfast and a cup of tea on the way.”

“I’m going to need at least three cups if you’re getting me up before nine on a Sunday,” Louis said. “Is this another surprise, or am I allowed to know where we’re going?” 

Harry’s stomach swooped excitedly as he realized Louis was agreeing.

“Surprise,” Harry responded with a smile. “I’ll be here to pick you up at six. Uh, wear a jacket. I think it’s supposed to be cool in the morning.” 

Louis raised one eyebrow at Harry and smirked as he flicked his messy fringe out of his eyes.

“I’ll dress appropriately,” Louis promised. 

“So… I’ll see you at six?”

“See you at six,” Louis said. “Thanks again for tonight. I really did have fun, even if I am now traumatized for life. I expect I’ll have some type of war flashback if I ever see a whisk again.”

Harry wanted to kiss him so badly. So, so badly. Instead, he gently reached up and ran his fingers through Louis’ hair where it lay against his temple, pushing it backward and off his face. He dragged his thumb across Louis’ cheekbone. His skin was so soft.

He watched as Louis shut both eyes at the touch and took a deep, steadying breath. Harry dropped his hand to his side, meeting Louis’ eyes before taking a step back into the corridor toward the stairwell. His hand was trembling.

“See you in the morning, Louis,” Harry said quietly. “Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Harry,” Louis said through a soft smile. He turned and let himself into the flat. 

Harry smiled the whole way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice!


	5. The Hike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis gets hurt. Harry makes it better.
> 
> They both make out.

******  
5.1

THE HIKE  
Sunday, May 3, 2015

HARRY  
******

 

Harry’s alarm sounded promptly at five o’clock in the morning. He slipped his hand underneath the empty pillow next to him and pulled out his phone, silencing the noise. He rolled over onto his back and stretched his arms above his head. He pointed his toes toward the door across the room and groaned. The sun wasn’t even up yet. 

He was irritated with the early hour for all of two seconds before he remembered the reason for it; he was getting to see Louis this morning. 

He sat up, twisting his torso to either side and hearing his back crack loudly before slipping out of bed. He showered quickly and made his way into the kitchen, flicking lights on as he walked toward the refrigerator. 

Harry removed a head of romaine lettuce and some various vegetables, rinsing everything under the sink before assembling a salad in a large Tupperware. He put together a couple of sandwiches and threw them into his backpack along with two water bottles. He tugged the backpack over his shoulders, stopping by the door to pull on his tennis shoes and sweatshirt. He turned and locked the door behind him as he walked down the dark stairwell toward the lift. It was too early for stairs.

He decided to send Louis a quick text to let him know that he was on the way. It wasn’t that Harry didn’t trust Louis to wake up on his own. It was just that Harry didn’t trust Louis to wake up on his own.

**5:43am:**  
On the way, be there in about 15. I’ll have tea waiting for you in the car. How do you take it? -H

**Louis, 5:45am:**  
why r u torturing me, the suns not even up yet, i feel like a zombie. that better be yorkshire tea. a little milk, no sugar please

Harry smiled down at his phone and tossed his backpack into his passenger seat. He shivered as he sunk into the driver’s seat and started the engine. It was chilly in his car. Harry pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up over and his head before pulling out of his parking space. At least his heater still worked.

Fifteen short minutes later he was parking in front of Louis’ flat, a scone and Yorkshire tea ready and steaming in the cup holder beside him. Harry moved to climb out of the car but stopped when he saw Louis’ figure emerge from the front door. A small, embarrassingly soft noise escaped Harry’s mouth when he saw Louis. 

He looked adorable. He was all bundled up, wearing his trademark black skinnies and an oversized jumper, his sleeves hanging down past his hands. He had a gray beanie pulled down over his hair and covering his ears. He walked toward Harry’s car, his face soft and still slightly swollen from sleep, his eyes heavy-lidded as he opened the door and slipped into the passenger seat. His teeth were chattering as he smiled over at Harry.

“Good morning,” he said. 

His voice was raspier than it had been last night. Harry wanted to cancel their date and take him upstairs and put him under a blanket before tucking in behind him and cuddling all morning. He started the car instead.

“Good morning,” Harry smiled as he reached over and tugged on the bottom of Louis’ beanie affectionately. “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you hate me right now?”

“Well, the fucking sun isn’t even up yet, so I’m not the most pleased I’ve ever been,” Louis reached for the cup of tea sitting in the cup holder. “That being said, you did bring me breakfast.” 

He smiled up at Harry from over the top of his teacup. Even in the darkness, his eyes were piercingly blue.

“I think I’ll be able to power through, though.”

“Glad to hear it,” Harry smiled back at him. He turned onto the highway and headed north.

“Do I get to know where we’re going yet?” Louis asked.

“Peak District National Park,” Harry announced. 

Louis stared blankly at him.

“That’s, like, a three-hour drive,” he said.

“Yep,” Harry announced happily. He was looking forward to watching the sunrise as they drove through the countryside. “Well, more like two and a half hours. Maybe less, actually, seeing as it’s so early.”

“Are you taking me to the middle of nowhere to kill me?” Louis asked. Harry laughed loudly in response. “I knew it, I knew you had that serial killer vibe, knew I felt something off…”

“Yeah, that’s it, you figured it out,” Harry said. “Actually, we are going for a walk.”

“You’re driving me three hours to take me for a walk?”

“It will be worth it,” Harry promised. 

Louis propped his sneakers up on Harry’s dashboard and reclined his seat, settling in for the long drive. 

“You better at least have some good music,” Louis complained.

He was asleep within five minutes.

 

******

 

Harry parked the car in an empty spot a few feet from the trailhead. He looked over at Louis, snoring loudly from the seat next to him, his face smashed up against the window. He smiled and reached over, grabbing Louis by the shoulder and shaking gently. Louis stirred awake.

“Oh, sorry, must’ve dozed off,” he mumbled through a yawn. 

He reached up and pushed his beanie up out of his eyes, the sleeves of his sweater flopping past his hands. Harry’s heart ached as he watched. 

“Dozed off?” Harry teased. “Dozing off is a thirty-minute catnap. You just clocked an entire REM cycle in my front seat.”

“Shit, are we here?” Louis sat up and looked around at his surroundings. “Wow. We are in the actual middle of nowhere.”

“Nothing like a hike first thing in the morning to get you going,” Harry chirped. “Getting out in nature, feeling the fresh air on your face.” 

Louis made a skeptical face as Harry opened his car door and climbed out. 

“I didn’t bring anything for a hike,” Louis whined. “I’m going to dehydrate and die out there. I’m not even wearing socks.”

Fuck. Harry probably should have considered Louis’ aversion to socks when he planned a surprise four-mile hike for them this morning. He should have packed a spare pair for him.

“Shit, I am sorry,” Harry apologized. “I brought everything else that I thought you would need but I forgot about your phobia of socks. Hopefully those shoes are properly broken in.” 

He shut the car door as Louis climbed out of his side and stretched his arms above his head.

“Right, well, just gonna have to make do,” he said. “Gonna pop over to those trees for a quick wee and then I’ll be ready to roll.” 

Harry did the same a few feet away before reconvening with Louis at the trailhead. He pulled off his sweatshirt. The morning sun was already warming the air around them. Harry stuffed the garment down into his backpack before zipping it closed and slinging the straps over his shoulders. He noticed Louis’ eyes following his movements.

“See something you like?” he asked, popping one hip out and imitating Louis’ exact gesture from that first night at the pub.

“You are…” Louis blatantly swept his eyes up and down Harry’s body, drinking him in. “You give me whiplash.” 

Harry frowned in confusion and took off past the trailhead, leading them into the trees.

“Whiplash?” Harry asked.

“Yeah. The Many Faces of Harry Styles,” Louis smirked. “The first time I met you, you were all business, wearing a suit and tie with your hair slicked back and looking every bit the corporate darling.” 

Harry chuckled and shook his head as he thought back to that first day at the café. He’d spent the morning in a deposition, so his outfit had been more professional than usual. Louis continued talking as they walked, his long sleeves swinging adorably back and forth past his hands. Harry was probably never going to get over that.

“And then?” Harry laughed.

“… And then—” Louis continued, struggling to keep up with Harry’s long strides. Harry slowed his pace slightly. “—I saw you at the pub, and you were this completely different person, all wild looking in your sheer blouse with tattoos exposed and leopard print boots, confident and just… different.” 

Harry could hear him panting a bit already. The level trail had morphed into a gradual incline and Louis’ legs needed two steps to Harry’s one. He slowed down even more, hoping that Louis wouldn’t realize what he was doing.

“And now—” Louis continued, “—now you show up looking like some fucking athlete or a model straight out of some sports magazine, decked out in…“ 

Louis waved his hand around in Harry’s general direction, avoiding his eyes. 

“…in this.” 

Harry looked down at his outfit, a little bit confused. 

“It’s just a pair of shorts and a tank, Louis,” Harry blushed. 

He had decided on a neon yellow tank, white athletic shorts and neon yellow tennis shoes for their re-date. He wasn’t sure what the big fuss was about.

“It is most definitely not just a pair of shorts and a tank,” Louis muttered. “With your fucking tan and muscles and fucking tattoos assaulting my face every two seconds.” 

Harry giggled at how offended Louis sounded by his exposed skin.

“I can cover up if you’d like,” he teased. 

Louis shook his head violently.

“No, no, no need to do anything rash, Harold,” Louis said. “I’m sure I’ll adjust eventually. I’m just not sure how one person can manage businessy and hipstery and athletic and manage to pull all those looks off. I basically never change clothes, myself. Two pairs of jeans, few tanks, couple jumpers. You’ll learn.” 

Louis jogged for a couple steps to catch up with Harry. 

“Jesus, you walk fast.”

“I can slow down if you need me to,” Harry offered.

“Ha! ‘If I need you to,’ hilarious, Styles,” Louis said. “I’ll have you know I could run this entire trail three times over without as much as breaking a sweat, thanks very much.” 

Harry highly doubted that as he watched Louis pull his jumper up and over his head, tying it around his waist as a slight sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead. 

“Footie players are the best conditioned athletes in the world,” Louis finished.

“Yeah, but hiking is a bit different than a footie game,” Harry countered. “Uses a bunch of different muscles. And it’s hard walking on an incline.” 

He stopped walking as Louis slipped on a rock, reaching out to catch him before he toppled down the trail. 

“Shit,” Louis said, standing to his feet. “Should’ve worn some proper shoes. These Vans don’t have any traction on the bottom. Gonna be sliding all over the place.” 

Harry frowned down at Louis’ poor little feet, once again wishing he had at least thought to pack him a pair of socks. 

“You’re going to get blisters,” Harry frowned, his brow scrunched with worry. 

“I’m fine, stop stressing,” Louis said. “I told you, I am going to be wiping the floor with your ass on this hike. In fact, I feel so good, let’s jog it.” 

Harry laughed, completely endeared by this new, competitive side of Louis. It was clear that he would never admit to weakness.

“It’s a four mile hike, Louis,” Harry said. “Maybe let’s just walk it for now.”

“Fine. Your choice, though,” he chirped, attempting to hide his heavy breathing. 

Harry pretended not to notice and smiled, just happy to have Louis by his side.

 

******

 

An hour later and Louis was having a much more difficult time disguising his struggles. Harry was stopping periodically, creating excuses to give Louis a breather. It wasn’t his fault, really, his legs were much shorter than Harry’s and he had to work almost twice as hard to keep up. They were nearing their destination, though, and Harry hoped it would all be worth the effort once they arrived.

“Just up ahead,” Harry updated. 

He turned in just enough time to see Louis with his head down and limping slightly before meeting Harry’s eyes and giving the thumbs up signal.

“Oh, perfect,” Louis said through each breath. “So soon? Ah, well, guess we could take a little break.” 

He stifled a laugh as he watched Louis jog the few steps to bring him even with Harry. On the one hand, he felt awful that he had dragged Louis out of bed at six in the morning to drive him three hours north on yet another date he seemed to hate. On the other hand, Harry was hopelessly endeared by Louis’ inability to admit vulnerability and weakness.

They walked up a rather steep incline, neither man speaking as it was a fairly difficult portion of the hike, before arriving at a flat hilltop overlooking a stunning view.

“Holy shit,” Harry heard Louis mutter from beside him. “That is… incredible.”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I hiked this once in Uni and loved this spot. Figured we could stop and have lunch here before heading back.”

Louis turned his head to face Harry, sunlight glistening on his flushed, sweaty face. 

“Lunch?” he asked.

“Yeah, you didn’t honestly think I’d force you into a four mile hike without bringing some food for us, did you?” 

Harry was shocked that Louis would even consider doing such strenuous activity for such a long period of time without eating. 

“You need to replenish all sorts of things you are losing while you exercise. Honestly, Lou, how does your body not shut down on a daily basis?”

“Just lucky I guess,” he responded. 

He sat down on a large rock overlooking the view and crossed his legs. 

“Gonna air these out a bit while we eat,” Louis said as he kicked off his shoes, exposing two huge, red blisters on each heel.

“Lou! Your feet,” Harry looked down at the blisters, feeling really fucking guilty that he didn’t tell Louis to pack proper footwear. “I am so, so sorry.”

“Eh, they’ll be fine.” Louis brushed off the concern as he stretched his calves. “I’ve had worse. Should have seen my feet when I was breaking in my last pair cleats. A little Moleskin and I’ll be good as new.” 

He laid down flat on his back and squinted up at Harry, adorable crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. 

“So are you going to feed me or am I going to starve to death on this fucking hilltop?” 

Harry laughed as he tossed his backpack down beside Louis, taking a seat across from him on the rock. He pulled out the large Tupperware with the salad and removed the lid before adding a bit of the homemade dressing he brought. He felt Louis’ eyes on him as he removed the sandwiches from the bag along with two packs of crisps and the water bottles.

“Wow,” Louis said, clearly impressed by the spread laid out in front of him. “When you said you brought lunch I thought you meant, like, a couple of protein bars. Maybe some trail mix.”

“Those bars are full of chemicals and preservatives and shit. You shouldn’t eat those,” Harry said, biting into his sandwich. “Even the healthy food is unhealthy. Really sucks.”

“You’re probably the only person I’ve ever met who thinks health food is unhealthy. No thanks,” Louis said, holding his hand up in front of him as Harry offered up some salad. “I’ll stick to the sandwich and chips.”

They sat on their rock and watched the clouds move over the horizon as they ate in comfortable silence. It was nice to just enjoy each other’s company and the beautiful view, sharing soft smiles over the tops of their water bottles every few moments. Harry thought about how rare it was to find someone as spontaneous as Louis, someone who constantly kept him guessing as to what he was going to do or say next, while also making him feel this at ease. 

“You’re something special, you know that?” Harry said, breaking the silence. 

Louis blushed at the compliment and dropped his gaze to his bag of crisps. 

“Might want to raise those standards a bit, Styles,” Louis said as he pulled a handful crisps out of his bag and avoided Harry’s eyes. “If I’m special, I’d hate to see what kinds of people you’ve hiked with before.” 

Harry frowned.

“Why do you do that?” Harry asked.

“Do what?”

“Deflect,” Harry said as he bit into his sandwich. “Why is it so hard for you to take a compliment?” 

He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to ask that question, but he asked it anyway. Harry really wanted to get to know the person behind all the banter. He loved their banter – truly, really loved it – but he wanted to know more.

“Dunno.” 

Louis picked up a pebble from the ground next to him and turned it over in his hands. He threw it off the side of the hilltop as far as he could, both men watching as it fell hundreds of feet to the grassy ground below. 

“Never have been great at that. Trying to get better, though.” 

“You are special, you know,” Harry said, meeting Louis’ eyes and locking their gaze. “Really. You are… different. So funny. So bright. And such a good friend.”

“How could you know that?” Louis asked. 

Harry saw the flush rise in his cheeks, but at least he didn’t protest to the praise. 

“I’ve seen the way you are with Liam,” Harry answered plainly. “It was one of the first things I noticed about you. Well, that and your ass.” 

He watched Louis giggle into his fist as he swallowed a drink of water. 

“That day at the café, the way you were so protective of him… I don’t think you realize how much strength he draws from you,” Harry said. 

It was the truth. He had witnessed Louis relieve Liam’s tension just by being around, stepping in with a joke or comment to relax him. It was a rare gift to have, to be that perceptive, and Harry wasn’t even sure Louis knew that he had it.

“Liam’s like a brother to me, you know,” Louis said. “Been there for me over the years like a brother. Was a bit jealous of you in the beginning, to be honest.”

“Jealous?” Harry laughed incredulously. “Why?”

“I didn’t know anything about you! Just that you were some new guy coming into my best friend’s life. Guess I was just worried that there wouldn’t be room for the both of us.”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Harry said. “I mean, I want Liam to be a part of my life, he seems like such a good person, but no matter what our relationship looks like… even if we got really close or whatever, there are spaces in his life I’ll never be able to fill. Lots of history between you that can’t be replaced by anyone.” 

Harry watched as Louis focused intently on picking at a spot of moss growing through a crack in the rock. 

“When he and his family moved to Donny, they moved in a couple of houses down from me. I felt like I’d hit the jackpot,” Louis laughed. “It was just me and mum and the girls… lots of estrogen in that house… and then Liam came along. He was a couple of years younger than me, but I’ve always been a bit young at heart, anyway.” 

Louis tossed another rock off the side of the hill and watched it fall. His hair was messy and his skin was pink. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of him. Louis looked up and winked at Harry, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He picked up his Vans and winced as he pulled each shoe on over his blistered feet. 

“Liam needed a bit of looking after round school,” Louis continued. “He is such a great person, really, but he gets a bit shy in big groups. You know how young boys are, they can get rowdy. Picked on Liam. Luckily, I can be a bit loud if you hadn’t noticed, and it seemed like if I hung around they left him alone. Probably didn’t hurt that I was older.” 

“He’s lucky to have you,” Harry said. His chest warmed as he listened to Louis talk. “I told you, you’re special.”

Louis stood from his spot on the rock and smiled sheepishly down at Harry, his cheeks pink as he offered him his hand. Harry took it in his own and lifted his body off of the rock, hearing his back crack audibly as he straightened up. 

“Jesus, you sound like an eighty year-old man.” 

“Got a bad back,” Harry said. “I’ll pay for this hike tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” Louis said, dusting his pants off from where he had been seated on the dirty rock for the past hour. “If it makes you feel better, I might need a wheelchair to get around the office this week. I think both of my feet are bleeding.” 

Harry slung his backpack over his shoulders and took off down the path ahead of Louis.

“Guess all that talk about… what was it? Wiping the floor with my ass, jogging this trail three times… guess all that was just bullshit, eh?” 

Harry smirked back toward Louis to find him scowling at the back of his head.

“Funny, Styles,” he said as he sped up to dart in front of Harry. “We’ll see who’s laughing when I am kicked back comfortably in the car waiting for you to finish.”

Harry remained a few steps behind as Louis bounced ahead of him down the trail, laughing as Louis shouted profanities out into the vast space around them and cackling as the hills echoed them back. 

Harry had a smile on his face, a warmth in his chest, and his eyes firmly glued to Louis’ ass. It was a good day. 

 

******  
5.2

THE HIKE  
Sunday, May 3, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

“I think I see the end of the trail up ahead!” Harry called out over his shoulder. 

Louis stopped walking and dropped his hands to his knees, tucking his chin to his chest and breathing heavily. He lifted his head and looked toward where Harry was pointing.

“Thank Christ,” he muttered to himself as he tried to catch his breath. 

He stood up, his hands finding his waist as he attempted to regulate his breathing. He caught Harry smirking amusedly back at him, clearly enjoying Louis’ struggle. Dickhead. 

Louis straightened his back immediately and dropped his hands casually to his sides, willing himself to breathe steadily in spite of the searing burn in his lungs. Well, at least while Harry was looking. Show no weakness. Show no pain. 

He attempted to sound as disappointed as possible when answering. 

“Really? Already? Damn, seems like this last little bit flew right by. Pity.”

Louis was actually dying. He was going to die right here on this fucking trail. 

Harry’s smirk morphed into a full grin. Louis could tell that he was completely unconvinced by the performance, but he appreciated that Harry had the decency not to call him out on it. 

He watched as Harry turned back toward the trailhead and resumed walking, albeit a bit slower than at his previous pace. Louis’s hands found his knees again as soon as Harry’s back was turned. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth while silently repeating almost there almost there almost there.

After allowing himself a few more seconds of wallowing in his pain and anguish, Louis stood up straight, drew in a deep breath and pasted a smile on his face. 

“Hey, Hazza!”

Harry turned around just in time to see Louis launching forward into a dead sprint, blowing past him while letting out a loud cackle. 

“Eat shit! See you at the car!” Louis shouted backward over his shoulder. 

His calves were burning and his feet were aching and his blisters were searing and his lungs were threatening to explode, but he refused to limp across the finish line. He would finish strong, even if it killed him. Besides, he had the three-hour car ride back to London to rest. 

He faintly heard Harry laughing behind him, obviously trying to catch up and failing. Louis had gotten a decent head start. Only about three hundred meters and he’d be through the trailhead and to the car. 

He flipped his middle finger over his shoulder as he ran, prompting a fit of giggles to burst from Harry who seemed to be gaining ground on him. Louis couldn’t help himself – couldn’t resist that giggle— he had to take a quick peek over his shoulder to see Harry’s flushed smile. 

Unfortunately for Louis they were still under tree cover and, as he turned his head to the left in an attempt to bring Harry into view, his foot hooked around a stray root creeping out from the edge of the trail. He felt his ankle roll as the momentum from his body carried him forward even after his feet stopped moving. 

Louis tumbled as he hit the ground, stirring up dirt and leaves and other gross outdoorsy shit that would probably stain his t-shirt.

“Fuck! Arghhhh,” Louis groaned and clutched his ankle as Harry ran toward him, his smile immediately morphing to a frown and his brow furrowing as he saw Louis’ pained face. “Shit!” Louis repeated, louder this time. “Shit!”

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Harry asked as he stopped beside him and dropped to one knee, reaching his hand out and gently touching Louis’ arm. “Oh my God, I hope it’s not broken. I am so sorry, this whole hike was a dumb idea, I never should have drug you out here, I should have at least told you where we were going so you would have worn the proper shoes...” 

Harry’s face was pure anguish as he watched Louis touch his ankle tentatively, wincing in pain. 

“Do you think it’s broken?” he asked. 

“I don’t know,” Louis answered truthfully. 

He looked up to where Harry was leaning over him, guilt clearly written all over his face. Louis hated seeing that. He hated how bad Harry felt for something that was not his fault. Louis wanted to reach out and smooth the crease in his brow, to tell him not to worry about it, to tell him that he was fine and he would walk it off. He wanted to say those things to make Harry feel better, but he also didn’t want to lie. His ankle really fucking hurt. 

“I think it’s just sprained, but I don’t think I can put any weight on it. Shit, I am so sorry. I ruined our whole day,” Louis mumbled to the dirt. 

“What are you apologizing for? It’s my fault that we came here in the first place, I am so sorry… Lou, if it’s broken…” Harry’s voice sounded so, so strained as he trailed off. “Has it started to swell?”

“I think so, my shoe feels tight,” Louis answered. He felt terrible. 

“May I?” Harry asked softly. 

Louis watched as Harry glanced down toward his foot and held his breath, waiting for an answer. Louis felt his heart rate quicken, completely unrelated to his exhaustion from the hike. 

He was sitting in the dirt, covered in sweat and mud, leaves stuck in his hair and closer to tears than he’d like to admit. He didn’t care.

“Sure,” he whispered, not taking his eyes off of Harry’s face.

Harry leaned closer and gently took Louis’ foot in his hands. He sat in the dirt in front of Louis, cross-legged like a kindergartener, resting Louis’ shoe on his thigh while he carefully untied the laces. Louis watched his fingers work, enraptured as ever by the way the movements of Harry’s huge hands managed to be languid yet purposeful; steady, but gentle. 

Harry slid his left hand under the back of Louis’ lower calf to support the injured foot as his right hand slowly pulled off Louis’ shoe. Louis winced and bit his lip, his fingers digging into the dirt as Harry finally freed the swollen foot. 

Louis felt a single tear escape from the corner of his eye and make its way down his cheek. Harry was nice enough to pretend not to notice.

“Didn’t realize you had a medical degree, too,” Louis joked softly, his voice shaking as he fought back the tears that were threatening to fall. He’d never had a high tolerance for pain. “So accomplished for a twenty-something.”

Harry didn’t smile at the joke. His brow stayed creased in concentration as he ran his fingers along the bare, swollen flesh, careful not to put pressure on any part of the injury. Louis quieted as he watched Harry gently turn his foot over so that his inner ankle faced the sky, resting lightly on the top of Harry’s thigh. 

He traced the curve of Louis’ foot with his thumb and rubbed soft circles on the skin as his hand moved. Louis’ breath caught in his chest. 

He watched as Harry slowly bent his head toward the foot and hovered just over the arch, close enough for Louis to feel the warmth of his breath. Harry brought the tip of his nose to the delicate skin before lightly dragging his lips up the curve of the arch. He gently placed a soft, sweet kiss on Louis’ swollen inner ankle. 

Louis’ entire body felt like it was on fire, trembling and energized, watching Harry kiss where his body ached. 

Harry looked up into Louis’ face, his green eyes big and bright. Louis sucked in a deep breath and felt a smile spreading across his face. His foot still hurt, but that was alright. 

Harry returned the smile before sheepishly dropping his gaze back toward Louis’ foot, a flush spreading across his cheeks. He cleared his throat.

“So, do you think you can walk?” 

“Uhh,” Louis responded shakily, not fully trusting his foot and definitely not trusting his voice. “Probably not, but I can always just crawl to the car. Just leave me here Harold, I’ll be fine, it will be like Man vs. Wild, I’ll live off of acorns and earthworms and discarded items I find along the forest floor as I crawl army-style toward the parking lot. A real character-building experience.”

Harry was laughing as he continued to gently rub Louis’ swollen ankle, his dimple fully exposed. 

“If I had to guess, I’d say it should only take me about… three days, give or take. Yep, just meet me at the trailhead in three days,” Louis joked.

Harry rose to his feet and held out both hands to where Louis was still seated on the ground. Louis allowed Harry to lift him, standing shakily and taking care not to put weight on his injured foot. 

“Come on, then,” Harry said as Louis struggled to gain his balance. “Up with you.” 

Louis stared at him in confusion. Harry stood in front of him, his hands still wrapped around Louis’ to steady him. Surely he was not suggesting what Louis thought he was suggesting. Surely not. 

“Um,” Louis said. “Up with what?”

“You.”

“I’m already up.”

“Up, but not walking,” Harry said. 

“No. No, absolutely not,” Louis protested. He was not about to be carried to the car like a child. No fucking way. “No.”

“No?” Harry said through a smirk.

“Now you’re catching on,” Louis chirped as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Nope.” 

“How do you plan on getting to the car, then?”

“I told you, I’m crawling,” Louis huffed.

Harry rolled his eyes and bent his knees, placing one arm behind the crook of Louis’ good leg and the other around his middle. Louis squawked in protest and flailed his arms as Harry picked him up with ease. 

“Harold! Put me down immediately!”

Harry began walking in the direction of the parking lot, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he was hauling Louis’ deadweight. Louis stopped struggling after two seconds and wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck for support. He let his head gently knock against Harry’s shoulder as they walked, not even trying to conceal the smile creeping across his face.

“I’ll have you know that this is a one time thing,” Louis said defiantly. 

Harry chuckled as they came to the trailhead and ducked underneath a low-hanging branch. 

“Of course,” he said, smiling down at Louis as they arrived at the car. “One time thing. Got it.”

Harry gently placed Louis’ uninjured foot on the ground. Louis reached out and gripped the car to steady himself as Harry reached into his pocket to rummage for the keys. He unlocked the passenger side door and opened it. 

Louis took Harry’s hand in his own as he hopped forward and plopped heavily into the passenger seat. Harry reached in and pulled the seatbelt across Louis’ chest, the buckle clicking loudly to break the silence. Louis shot Harry a glare out of the corner of his eye. 

“This is completely unnecessary and I would like it on the official record that I am very displeased,” Louis complained. 

He watched as Harry leaned back and laughed under his breath, his eyes locked on Louis as he stood up.

“Safety first,” Harry said happily. 

He swiftly shut the door in Louis’ face. Louis watched Harry walk around the car, grinning to himself as he unlocked and opened the driver’s side door. 

“So clucky.”

“Someone has to look out for you,” Harry said as he started the engine. He put the car in drive and pulled forward out of the parking space. “How you’ve made it this long without accidentally killing yourself is a true mystery.” 

Louis tried to act irritated as he watched Harry turn the car onto the main road, but he was unable to conceal the fond look on his face. He felt warm all over, happy and relaxed despite the throbbing pain in his foot. 

He smiled the rest of the drive home as he sang along to Harry’s iPod, still feeling the buzz on his skin from where Harry’s lips had been.

 

******

 

Louis spent the majority of the drive with his swollen, smelly, bare foot propped up on Harry’s dashboard. They had sung along to the most random, varied mix of songs that Louis had ever heard. One minute they were belting out Celine Dion, the next some classic Fleetwood Mac, then something off of some Disney movie soundtrack, then some old school Arctic Monkeys, followed by some Backstreet Boys circa 2003. 

Louis’ face actually ached from smiling by the time they arrived back in London.

“I am starving,” he whined to Harry. “Not that your sandwich and chips weren’t great, I’m just used to eating… well, pretty much constantly.” 

Harry laughed as he turned onto Louis’ street.

“Want to grab a bite?” he asked. “Unless you’re sick of me by now.”

“Not sick of you just yet,” Louis winked at Harry. 

He watched his smile widen and the dimple in his cheek grow. Louis felt so good despite being sore and injured and smelling all-around terrible. Harry was just so warm. He was pretty sure it was impossible to be anything other than happy when he was around.

“There’s a great little bistro about a block down from your flat, if that works for you,” Harry said. “And we’ll be able to park right out front, an obvious necessity considering your… current state.” 

He glanced over at Louis’ foot still propped up on the dashboard, frowning at his swollen ankle. 

“I am really sorry, Lou.”

“Harry, I like you, but I swear to God if you apologize one more time I’m going to have to take the wheel and drive this car off of a fucking bridge.” 

“I just feel so bad,” he mumbled under his breath. 

Louis hated seeing him feel this guilty. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he was about to do.

“Knock knock,” Louis muttered.

“What?” Harry said. 

He pulled the car into a spot directly in front of the bistro as promised and put it in park.

“Knock knock,” Louis repeated with a sigh. 

Harry’s eyes sparkled as he realized that Louis was actually telling him a joke. His smile was big when he answered.

“Who’s there?” 

“A broken pencil.”

“A broken pencil who?” Harry’s face was threatening to split in half.

“Never mind, it’s pointless.” 

Louis watched Harry, able to see the pieces falling into place as he worked out the joke in his mind. He barked out a loud laugh and clapped one hand over his mouth, his shoulders hunching forward and his hand slapping his knee as he cracked up in the driver’s seat. Louis loved that laugh. Loved being the reason for it.

“Oh my God, that was gold,” Harry wiped his eyes.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone laugh that hard from a bad knock-knock joke,” Louis said. 

He climbed out of the car and waited for Harry. He needed his help to get to the bistro door. Louis reached up and grabbed one of Harry’s shoulders as he hopped on one foot, Harry supporting his weight on his injured side. 

It was embarrassing and uncomfortable, but Louis didn’t mention that out of fear that Harry might take his complaining as an invitation to scoop him up and carry him again.

Harry helped him into a chair at a small table by a window facing the street. Louis watched as he settled into the seat across from him, the soft light from the candle in the center of the table casting shadows across his face.

“Dinner by candlelight,” Louis teased. “I had no idea you were such a romantic.” 

Louis was loving every second of it.

“What can I say, I have my moments,” Harry said. “Thanks for sticking around through two awful dates. You’re the real MVP here.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, they were not awful dates.” 

Louis hated that Harry thought that he hadn’t had fun between last night and today. True, things could have gone a bit smoother at times, but Louis couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled so much. His cheeks were literally sore.

“They were kind of a disaster, though,” Harry said, chuckling down at the menu.

“I mean, alright, maybe in an ideal world we would have actually gotten to eat the food we cooked last night instead of setting it aflame,” Louis said. Harry laughed harder. “And maybe in an ideal world I wouldn’t be contemplating a trip to the emergency room right now, but it could have been worse.”

Louis watched as Harry ran one of his big hands through his messy, curly hair. The hike had really done a number on it, the wind blowing it in every direction and his sweat causing the curls to tighten into small ringlets around his face. 

Louis reached out and tugged playfully on one of the spirals hanging by his cheek. Harry’s eyes crossed stupidly as he followed the movement of Louis’ fingers.

“I quite like these springy bits,” Louis said softly, pulling gently. 

Harry smiled big and bright and brought his hand up to envelope Louis’ own. He felt Harry’s thumb as it traced the lines of his palm, soft and warm against his skin. 

“I really did have fun last night,” Louis murmured. “And today. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true. My cheeks hurt more than my foot, to be honest. Feel like I’ve been laughing for twenty-four hours straight.”

Harry’s eyes darkened, his lids blinking slowly back at Louis. His smile turned soft and private as he dropped his elbow to the table and pulled Louis’ hand toward his mouth, gently kissing the inside of Louis’ wrist. Louis felt his skin buzz all the way from his fingertips to his toes.

“Thank you,” Harry said, his lips still flush against the skin. “Most people wouldn’t be so willing to look for fun in activities that they aren’t fully enjoying, but you are just so… different than most people.” 

Louis felt Harry’s feet find his uninjured foot under the table. Harry hooked both feet around Louis’ good ankle. Louis dragged the toe of his shoe up and down the back of Harry’s calf, giddy as the waiter walked up to take their order. 

They were playing fucking footsie in a bistro on a Sunday night. This was a thing that was actually happening.

Dinner was a relatively silent affair seeing as both men were exhausted and starving after their day and too focused on stuffing their faces with food to bother with talking. Louis found that he didn’t mind silence when he was sharing it with Harry. 

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his protruding stomach as Harry flagged down their server for the check.

“No, no, no way,” Louis grabbed the bill from the man’s hands before Harry could reach it. He took out his wallet and slid his card into the pocket before handing it back. “You paid for that class last night, and the gas to drive us all that way today… let me take care of this, at least.” 

Harry looked like he was about to protest, but ultimately closed his mouth and smiled instead.

“You deserve to be spoiled.”

“You can cover my hospital bills if my foot ends up needing to be amputated.” 

Louis shot Harry a mischievous grin over the top of his wine glass. Harry made an offended noise in response as he tossed off a torn piece of breadstick at Louis. It hit him in the eye and bouncing directly into his wine.

“Whoops,” Harry said, not looking the slightest bit sorry.

“Now you’re trying to blind me, too?” Louis scolded. He set his drink down and attempted to fish out the bread from his glass. “Really nice, Styles, you really know how to treat a lady.” 

Louis might have been slightly drunk. Blame the exercise and lack of food.

“You ready to go?” Harry asked. He folded up his napkin and stacked their plates on top of one another. 

“Are you clearing the table? You know that they pay people to do that, right?” 

Louis watched as Harry stacked the bowls together. He sat them on top of the plates in an orderly pile that would be easy for their server to remove.

“Yeah but they have to do that shit all day. Pick up people’s gross used plates and silverware,” Harry said. He stacked their water glasses inside one another and placed their neatly folded napkins on the top of the pile. “It’s no effort for me and it makes thing easier on them, so why not?” 

“Who even are you?” Louis asked.

He watched as Harry stood from his seat and walked around to Louis’ side of the table. He leaned down and placed one arm around his waist to help him out of his chair. 

“What planet did you come from?” 

Harry chuckled as he helped Louis hop out the door of the restaurant and onto the dark sidewalk outside.

“We are only a block away from your flat,” Harry said, looking at Louis. “I know you can’t walk, so how do you feel about piggy back rides?”

“Are you fucking serious?” Louis stared at Harry in disbelief. “Did I not make my thoughts on being carried around like a child perfectly clear back on the trail?”

“Yeah but that was different,” Harry argued. “That was, like, being carried in my arms. This will be fun. I can even jog if you want to go fast.” 

“Now you’re just showing off,” Louis said. “Alright then, on with it.” 

He reached out and made grabby hands at Harry as he stood on one foot, feeling extremely stupid and absolutely positive it was only going to get worse.

“Excellent!” Harry said. 

He looked like a kid on Christmas as he turned his back to Louis and squatted down, allowing him easy access to jump on. Louis placed both hands on his shoulders and launched off his good foot, wrapping his legs around Harry’s middle. Harry’s arms hooked underneath Louis’ thighs as he straightened to his full height.

“Your back!” Louis said worriedly as Harry began walking. “You said you have a bad back, are you sure you should be doing this?”

“Probably not,” Harry grinned over his shoulder. “Hold on tight.” 

He took off running toward the end of the block. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders and gigged into the back of his neck.

“Ha—aa—rrryyyyy—I’m—sliiii---pppp—iiiiiiiing!” 

The words came out broken as he bounced up and down, clinging tightly as he felt himself sliding down Harry’s back. Harry stopped and hoisted Louis up, securing his grip before taking off again. Louis completely forgot to be embarrassed as he laughed openly, enjoying the scent of Harry’s shampoo as his curls tickled his nose. They arrived at the door to Louis’ building far too soon.

“You should put me down,” Louis said as Harry struggled to pull on the knob while still holding Louis. 

“And how do you plan on climbing the steps?” Harry panted out, winded but not releasing his grip as he slid through the doorway and into the foyer. He took each step slowly, his muscles flexing underneath Louis’ body. Not that he noticed. “Let me guess… crawl?”

“Would’ve worked,” Louis grinned. “I would’ve made it to the car eventually.”

“You would have been eaten by wild animals,” Harry huffed out as they reached the top of the landing. He leaned against the wall to catch his breath. “Only a bit further now.” 

He walked slowly down the corridor toward Louis’ door. Louis took one last, deep whiff of Harry’s hair before he felt him squat down and gently release his grip on Louis’ thighs. Louis stood balanced on his uninjured foot.

“Shit!” Louis said, smacking his forehead in frustration. “I left my fucking shoe in your car.” 

Both men glanced down at Louis’ swollen, bare foot suspended above the floor. 

“I don’t think you’ll be putting a shoe on that any time soon,” Harry frowned. Louis’ ankle was the size of a small apple. “Plus, this just gives me a legitimate excuse to see you again.” 

Louis smiled, feeling his cheeks redden as he fumbled for his key in his pocket. He held it up and met Harry’s eyes before turning to insert it in the lock. 

“Oh, I meant to ask,” Harry said. “What happened to your door?” 

Louis followed his hand as he gestured toward the poorly drawn numbers and crooked knocker, smirking as though he already knew it was somehow Louis’ fault.

“Oh, that,” Louis said sheepishly. “You know, the usual… drank a bit too much one night, stumbled home and realized I forgot my keys, became inexplicably irate at the universe, felt that the building itself was somehow responsible for me having to sleep in the corridor.” 

Louis thought back to that evening and the unfortunate next morning, when crazy Mildred had opened her door to find Louis asleep near a pile of vomit on the floor. He skipped right over that detail. 

“For some reason I was angry at the flat for being locked out. Kind of ripped the numbers off the door. I don’t know, Harry, all I can say is stay away from Absinthe.” 

Harry was laughing as Louis finished the story, explaining in detail how he had gone to rip the knocker off as well, but was only able to get one side free before giving up and passing out on the doormat.

“No Absinthe,” Harry said as he smiled down at Louis. “I’ll try to remember that.”

Louis looked up into Harry’s eyes, big and green and sparkling. He very much wanted to keep this person around. 

He leaned up, standing on the tippy toes of his uninjured foot, and pressed a soft, slow kiss to Harry’s cheek just beside his mouth. 

“Thank you again,” Louis whispered. “For last night, and today. I had a really, really good time.” 

He dropped back down onto his heel, his face burning and butterflies going wild in his stomach. He made to turn and face the door when he felt Harry’s hands on his shoulders, spinning him back toward him and holding him firmly in place. 

“What—“ 

Louis looked up questioningly and was immediately met with Harry’s lips on his own, soft yet firm as they pressed hard against his mouth. He brought his hands up to Harry’s face and cupped his jaw as he returned the kiss, opening his mouth in rhythm with Harry as they slid their tongues together. 

Harry tasted good. Sweet with just a hint of their wine from dinner. Louis smiled as the warmth in his chest radiated outward through his entire body. He bit gently on Harry’s lower lip as he pulled away slightly. 

He heard Harry moan and felt his body go limp under Louis’ touch. Louis felt Harry’s large hands gripping the backs of his thighs, effortlessly lifting his body. Louis went easily and wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist, deepening their kiss as he clung with one hand to the back of his neck. He ran the other through his mess of tangled curls, tugging gently. Another moan from Harry. Louis shuddered.

Harry walked Louis backward and pressed his body up against the door, one of his arms supporting Louis from underneath his ass as the other made its way to Louis’ face. He dragged his thumb lightly down his cheek and cupped his jaw. 

Harry slowed their kiss, pecking at Louis’ lips gently before pulling away, their ragged breaths hot against each others’ mouths. Louis leaned in for one last, lazy kiss as they rested their foreheads together, both men attempting to slow their breathing. 

Harry sat him down gingerly and reached behind his body to turn the key in the lock. He never took his eyes off Louis.

“Been wanting to do that,” Harry said softly, a lazy smile spreading across his face. 

Louis reached up and placed his thumb in Harry’s dimple.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” 

Harry ran his hand through the front of Louis’ messy fringe, sweeping it out of the way from where it had fallen into his eyes.

“Can we do this again?” Harry said.

His smile was big and bright. Louis was sure he already knew the answer to that question considering he was two seconds away from dragging Harry inside and tearing his clothes off. He was about to do as much when Harry interrupted. 

“I want to do this right, you know. Don’t want to fuck it up right off the bat. I really like you, and I think you maybe feel the same… so can we do this again? Soon?” 

“So you, like, want to take it slow?” Louis asked, feeling slightly dejected.

He saw Harry’s smile falter slightly.

“Not that I’m opposed to that,” Louis said quickly. “I just want to make sure we are on the same page here. You do, like, want to come inside, right?” 

Louis shook his head as Harry laughed out loud at the double entendre. 

“My flat, I mean. Come inside my flat.” 

“I really, really want to come inside,” Harry smirked. “Like… really want to. I just want to do this right even more. And I’m not sure right now is the right time. I’m hoping that there will be plenty of right times in the future, though.”

Louis felt himself blush. He really wanted to fuck him. 

“I just don’t know if I want to look back on our first experience and remember you hobbling around on one foot and both of us smelling like we haven’t bathed in weeks,” Harry said quietly. 

Harry had a point. They both reeked.

“So you want to take it slow,” Louis said.

“No,” Harry said. “Not particularly. Not slow. Just… not tonight.” 

He leaned down and pressed his lips against Louis’ once more. His hand found the waistband of Louis’ jeans and tugged him forward. He felt a pull in his gut as Harry’s fingertips playfully tickled the skin beneath his pants, teasing him, driving him crazy. 

He was about to say fuck it and drag Harry inside whether he wanted to come or not when he felt the door open behind him. Harry broke their kiss immediately, his head snapping back and eyes widening as he not-so-stealthily removed his hand from the front of Louis’ pants. 

Louis turned to see Liam standing in the doorway with his laundry bag slung over his shoulder looking very, very awkward.

“Oh! Uhh, shit, hey guys. Hi Harry,” he said. He nodded in Harry’s direction before turning and meeting Louis’ eyes, his cheeks reddening immediately. “Just on my way to do a bit of laundry. All out of clean underpants, guess that’s how you know it’s time for a wash.” 

Louis scrunched his face up in disgust as Liam slid by them into the corridor and took off toward the washer and dryer. 

“Well, good to see you, Harry, we should get together this week, have a beer or something,” Liam spoke rapidly as he tripped over nothing. He continued to walk backward, quickly moving away from them. “Have a good night!” 

He vanished as he turned down the hallway toward the Laundromat. A loud banging noise rang out from the general direction in which he was moving. Louis wouldn’t be surprised if he fell to his death in his haste to get away from them. Serves him right. Harry’s hands had been on Louis’ navel. Fucking Liam.

“Well, that’s one way to kill the mood,” Louis said. “Nothing says ‘do me’ quite like Liam talking about his dirty underpants.” 

Harry giggled as he met Louis’ eyes.

“Goodnight, Louis,” he said softly as he leaned down and pressed a chaste, sweet kiss to Louis’ forehead. “I’ll bring you that shoe soon. Promise.” 

He watched as Harry turned and walked down the hallway toward the stairwell, smiling back at Louis over his shoulder as he went.

“You better!” Louis called out after him. “I only have one other pair of shoes!” 

Harry waved at him one last time before disappearing around the corner just as Louis heard the sound of the door across the hallway cracking open. He turned to find one old, blue eye peeking through the gap where the chain was stretched tight.

“What the hell’s all this noise? Some of us are trying to sleep!”

“Oh shut up, Mildred, it’s only seven-thirty,” Louis groaned as he rolled his eyes.

He turned around and hopped on one foot into his dark flat, a large smile still firmly etched on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice!


	6. The Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes to a play. Louis goes to a play.
> 
> They both come.

******  
6.1

THE PLAY  
Thursday, May 7, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

Louis waited until after work to send the text to Harry. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous. They had been in constant contact over the last four days, both men still embarrassingly giddy over the way that they ended things on Sunday evening. 

Louis had spent the week replaying that kiss over and over and over again. Remembering the feeling of Harry’s big hands gripping the spot where his thighs met his ass, pushing Louis into the door with just the right amount of force. Replaying the scene in his mind while lying in bed alone each night. Just the memory of Harry’s hands gripping his body was hot enough to get him going. 

It had just been such a good kiss, easily his best first kiss, and the memory of Harry’s fingernails scraping at the skin under his waistband…

Louis cleared his throat and shot a quick glance toward Liam before shifting in his chair and dropping one hand to his lap. He adjusted himself discreetly. He was half-hard just thinking about it now, honestly. 

He had been texting with Harry every day since Sunday. Their messages had become progressively flirtier, as though each of them felt the tension building with the more time that passed without seeing each other. Louis had hoped that they would be able to get together during the week, but some things had come up with Harry’s work that had tied him up until later than usual. He had played it cool, though, not letting on how bummed he had actually been. He had been really, really bummed.

He waited until a commercial break to type out the text to Harry, hitting Send right as the match came back from commercial.

**6:24pm:**  
liams play is tomorrw night @ the childrens theatre downtown. was thinking maybe you would like to go w/me? starts @ 7

**Harry Styles, 6:27pm:**  
Is Liam actually in the play? –H

**6:28pm:**  
unfortunately not… though i would pay at least double admission to see that

**Harry Styles, 6:30pm:**  
Shame. I’m in anyway, though. Want me to pick you up or what? –H

**6:32pm:**  
don’t you live close to downtown? ill pick u up this time

**Harry Styles, 6:35pm:**  
Sounds great. I’ll text you my address. What’s the play? –H

**6:36pm:**  
peter pan

**Harry Styles, 6:38pm:**  
One of my favorites! I am excited. Can’t wait to see you again. Going to smooch you. –H

**6:40pm:**  
u are so corny, really styles, so embarrassing get a grip  
**6:40pm:**  
but me too. pucker up, peaches

**Harry Styles, 6:41pm:**  
Peaches?!? I changed my mind. No smooches for you. -H

Louis smiled stupidly as he tossed his phone onto the empty couch cushion beside him.

“Harry’s going to come tomorrow night,” he announced happily. 

He picked up his beer and took a sip as he peeked at Liam out of the corner of his eye. He found him staring at the television, his eyes unfocused, his front teeth gnawing on his bottom lip. His thumb absentmindedly traced the circular rim of the empty beer bottle in his hand. 

“Li?” 

“Huh?” Liam looked over at Louis. “Oh, hey, sorry, that’s great! That’s great, yeah, that’ll be cool.”

Liam brought the empty bottle to his mouth and tried to take a sip as his eyes found the television screen once more.

“Hey, space cadet, what’s your deal?” Louis asked, tossing a throw pillow at Liam’s face. “You’ve been really distracted the past few days.” 

Liam glanced down toward his phone and turned it over in his hand, avoiding Louis’ gaze. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he said as he sat the bottle on the coffee table. “I’ve just had some things on my mind, is all.” 

Guilt swept over Louis as he thought back over the past couple of weeks. He had noticed that Liam had been a bit more quiet than usual, but he had honestly been so caught up in this thing with Harry that he hadn’t really made time to ask him about it. Even when he was around, he wasn’t really _around_ … not mentally, anyway… always texting Harry with his nose glued to his phone. He was the fucking worst.

“Shit, I am sorry.” 

Louis sat up straight and sat his bottle on the coffee table. He turned to face Liam. 

“I’ve been an absolute twat the past few weeks, I know. And I know it’s probably weird for you that I’ve been hanging out with Harry—“

“No, Louis—“

“—I mean, you find out you have a brother you’ve never known and then I just swoop in and take him for myself like some kind of jackass… shit, I’m really sorry, do you want me to stop seeing him? Because I can do that—“

“What?! Louis, seriously, no, that’s not what this is about.” 

He watched as Liam ran one hand through his hair in frustration. Something was clearly wrong. He was worried, but he also selfishly relieved. He had really, really been hoping that Liam wasn’t going to ask him to stop seeing Harry. Reeeeeally. He totally couldn’t do that. Well, he could do that, he just really didn’t want to do that.

“Harry and I have been texting and stuff, too,” Liam said. “It doesn’t bother me that the two of you are… whatever.”

He waved one hand distractedly in front of him before bringing both elbows to his knees and hunching over forward.

“Honestly, I think I’m just feeling a bit guilty.” 

Louis was confused.

“Guilty about…?” 

Louis watched as Liam stood from his chair and walked toward the fridge to grab a new beer. He twisted the cap off and took a long sip before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Zayn,” he muttered as he sunk back into his chair. 

He dropped his gaze to the floor as realization dawned on Louis.

“Holy shit, have you been seeing Zayn?!” 

“No, not exactly,” Liam mumbled. He knocked his bottle against the palm of his hand, his teeth still chewing on his bottom lip. “That’s why I feel guilty.”

“I’m officially lost then, mate. Gonna have to help me out here.”

“I really thought we, like, hit it off that night at the pub or whatever,” Liam was staring directly at the floor. Louis hated seeing him like this. “I figured maybe he’d ask Harry for my number or something, but I haven’t heard from him since then.” 

Louis took a sip of his beer and waited for Liam to continue. They weren’t great at stuff like this. Feelings and sharing and whatnot.

“I feel guilty because, like, I want to talk to Harry and all… I’m glad we’re getting to know each other, he’s super cool… but I really want to be talking to his friend. How fucked up is that?” 

Liam leaned back in his chair and rested his head heavily against the cushion. He stared directly up at the ceiling.

“Mmm, well, I might not be the best person to answer that for you,” Louis said awkwardly.

Liam laughed.

“I am just disappointed, I guess,” he mumbled. “Thought he liked me. Thought I’d be hearing from him. And I don’t really, know how to ask Harry for his number or whatever… I feel like that would be weird, right? It would. It would be weird.”

“So, just to summarize—” Louis leaned back into the couch and propped his feet up on the table in front of him. “—I was feeling guilty because I thought you’d been moping around because you’re angry that your best friend is kind of dating your brother but really, you’re just feeling guilty because you are wanting to date your brother’s best friend.” Louis smiled as Liam began to laugh. The situation sounded even more ridiculous out loud. “Does that pretty much cover it?”

“Yeah, think so,” Liam chuckled. “Oh well, I’m going to try not to stress about it. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be, or whatever that saying is. If he likes me, it’ll happen. Somehow.”

Louis hummed in agreement as Liam turned the volume up on the television, the crowd celebrating as Sheffield successfully converted a penalty kick. He grabbed his phone from where he had tossed it onto the couch beside his thigh and typed out a quick text to Harry.

**7:01pm:**  
you should invite zayn  & niall tomorrow. the more the merrier when supporting the arts ☺ 

**Harry Styles, 7:10pm:**  
They’re in. Looking forward to it! –H 

 

******

 

Louis stared down at his bathroom counter to where his razor stared back at him, taunting him, mocking him. Louis did not particularly care for shaving these days. He had always felt like his face had a tendency to look very boyish when clean-shaven, and since his job had no restrictions on facial hair, he preferred to leave things scruffier if he could help it. Ruggedly handsome. 

That being said, he was heading to the Children’s Theatre to watch a play whose cast ranged from about five to fifteen years old. He assumed his usual – grunge? hobo chic? – look was probably inappropriate for such an event. Didn’t want to scare the children. Or their parents.

Louis brought his eyes up to examine his reflection in the mirror. He had already tamed the hair on his head into a neat, orderly quiff. The only thing left was to tame the hair on his face. 

He ran one hand over his mouth and felt the roughness drag against his skin. 

He sighed as he squirted a quarter-size blob of shaving cream into his palm and lathered up his face. He dunked the razor under the faucet and brought it to his upper lip, hovering just above his scruffy moustache.

“Fucking hell,” Louis muttered as he dragged the blade over his skin, taking the small brown hairs along with it. “I look like a bloody sixteen year old.”

Louis’ disdain for shaving normally meant rushing through and finishing quickly; however, tonight he made sure to go slowly, not wanting to risk nicking his skin. He patted on some aftershave, wincing as he felt the burn radiate over the open pores. Beauty is pain, after all.

He limped slightly as he walked across the hall and into his bedroom. His ankle was fine, thankfully, but it still twinged at the end of the day. He pulled on a pair of underpants and surveyed the outfit laid out across his quilt. He had chosen a tight pair of black skinnies, a dark gray scoop-neck tee, and the black blazer that he had decided against for his and Harry’s first date. Better late than never. 

He dressed quickly, keeping an eye on the clock as he fired off a text to Harry. 

**6:16pm:**  
running just a taaaaaaad late, no big deal, be there shortly… leaving in 5

**Harry Styles, 6:18pm:**  
Why am I not surprised that punctuality is not one of your strengths? ☺ -H

**6:20pm:**  
ha ha very funny, keep it up and you will be walking to the theatre

Louis rushed out of his room and grabbed his wallet and keys from the table in the hallway, stopping in the mirror to check his hair one last time before darting out the door. He typed Harry’s address into the GPS on his phone while scurrying down the stairs and sending up a few silent prayers that he wouldn’t trip and fall and break his neck before getting to see Harry’s dick in person. Not that Louis had been thinking about seeing Harry’s dick tonight. 

He had.

He drove faster than usual, which was slightly alarming since he drove well above the speed limit normally, anyway. He pulled up in front of Harry’s building ten minutes later and threw the car in park, climbing out carefully as to not fuck up his hair. He bent down to examine his quiff in the window to make sure that it was still hanging in there after the rather wild drive. 

He spun on his heel and darted across the sidewalk toward the old, brick building. Louis pulled open the door and walked into a small, dark, and rather depressing entryway. Not exactly where he’d been expecting fancy Law Firm Harry™ to live, but that was all right. Louis could roll with it. 

Were the walls covered in velvet? What the fuck?

Harry’s flat was on the second floor, but Louis couldn’t seem to locate a flight of stairs anywhere. There was a desk near the front that he assumed was for a doorman, but it sat vacant. Well, not completely vacant – there was a horrifying animal head affixed to the wall above the desk, its eyes black and staring down at Louis. 

What the fuck was that smell? Louis scrunched up his nose and breathed through his mouth as he scanned the entire foyer, trying to locate any indicator as to where the stairwell might be located. 

**6:30pm:**  
hey im in your building but where is the fuckign stairwell? i cant figure it out, this place is like a weird transylvania cave

**Harry Styles, 6:31pm:**  
Literally right when you walk in, stairwell is to the left. Can’t miss it. –H

**6:32pm:**  
there are no stairs when you walk in, also I can barely see… its dark as shit in here, what is this creepy moose head on the wall  
**6:32pm:**  
this is my nightmare

**Harry Styles, 6:33pm:**  
Are you sure you’re in the right building? –H

“Sir?” 

Louis heard a slow, high-pitched voice call out to him from somewhere over his shoulder. He turned to see an older man with gray hair and a really, really weird face peeking out from behind one of the doors lining the perimeter of the foyer. 

“Have you been helped?” 

The man’s face looked a little bit like it was melting. He also had something – possibly a mole, possibly a large piece of leftover food? – dangling from his chin by his mouth. Not exactly the most welcoming doorman that Louis had ever encountered, but pretty on par with this establishment in general. 

“Oh, uhh, no, I haven’t,” Louis said. “Thank you, maybe you can help me?”

The man smiled and stepped out into the room, wiping a pair of gloved hands onto the long apron suspended from his neck. His fingers left a questionable maroon trail in their wake. Louis felt his phone buzz.

“Of course, of course, I am so sorry,” the melting man said as he walked toward the desk in the front. “What are we doing today? Let me guess, a beloved pet? You don’t look much like a hunter.” 

The melting man winked at Louis, chuckling at a joke that he clearly was not in on. Louis stared at the food particle dangling from his mouth. Was that food or was it part of his face?

“Well, did you bring the beast with you?” 

“I’m sorry,” Louis said, scrunching his brow in confusion. “What?”

Louis felt his phone buzz again. He pulled it out of his pocket and read the most recent texts from Harry.

**Harry Styles, 6:36pm:**  
There is no moose in my foyer. I have no idea where you are, but you’re not here. –H  
**Harry Styles, 6:36pm:**  
Oh my God, please tell me you’re at the taxidermist down the street. –H

“Fuck,” Louis muttered under his breath. 

He looked up to find the melting man staring at him. His eyes landed on the maroon stain on his apron as realization set in. 

“Fuck."

“Sir?” 

“Shit, I’m in the wrong place, sorry,” Louis sputtered. 

He walked backward toward the door as fast as his feet would carry him. The eyes of the giant Sasquatch head on the wall followed him as he moved. 

“In the wrong place, sorry about that, sorry to disturb, have a nice night with your-–” Louis waved one hand wildly in the general direction of the dark, disturbing room, “—whatever it is you’re doing.” 

Louis felt his back hit the door. He turned to push it open and spilled out onto the sidewalk, taking a deep breath of the fresh, evening air as he glanced at the numbers above the door to read 4104. Harry’s building was 4108. Oh God, Louis had been breathing in dead, decomposing animal air. 

He took a whiff of his blazer, terrified that the odor might have soaked into his clothing and he would reek of horrible, dead things all night. He smelled his cologne and nothing else. Thank God he had gone with the more overpowering scent. 

He typed out a quick text to Harry as he hastily made his way to 4108.

**6:38pm:**  
i hate you

Louis walked into his second foyer of the evening, relieved to find that this one was painted a happy, sunny yellow with a perfectly visible stairwell to his left. It smelled like gardenias, a vast improvement from the putrid embalming fluid in the previous building. 

He took the stairs two at a time and stopped abruptly at the door at the top of the landing. 2202. He knocked twice, glancing down at his feet to see a doormat covered in dancing bananas wearing top hats. WELCOME.

The door opened and Louis was met with a very tall, very dark, very handsome Harry grinning at him from across the threshold.

“Why is it that everything I try to do is a total fucking disaster when it comes to you?” Louis asked. “I’m not actually this incompetent in real life, you know.”

He placed both hands on his hips in irritation. Harry’s smile was impossibly wide, his laughter ringing out into the hallway as his dimple deepened in his cheek. 

“Oh my God, you **did** go to the taxidermist!” 

Harry cracked up, clapping his hands together as he doubled over forward and guffawed loudly. Louis stood his ground and crossed his arms over his chest, trying very hard not to seem endeared by Harry’s wild laughter. 

“That place is so scary! I’ve only ever passed by, though. You’ll have to tell me all about the inside.” 

Harry wiped tears from his eyes as he stood up, still smiling warmly at Louis.

“Well, let’s see,” Louis said, “I was wondering why you were living in the most rancid smelling building I have ever been in—” Harry busted out into a new fit of giggles as Louis continued, “—then, the most _charming_ man came out front to help me, but only after wiping what I am assuming was drained animal blood from something’s carcass all over the front of his apron.” 

Harry doubled over in laughter again, clutching his stomach.

“Stop, stop, please,” Harry begged, his hands clutching his stomach. “It hurts.”

Louis felt warm as he watched Harry laugh, happy and open and looking at him through shining, wet eyes. His cackles faded to giggles and his smile turned sweet as he met Louis’ gaze.

“Hey, you,” he said quietly.

“Hey, you,” Louis repeated. 

Their voices were low and private and soft. Intimate. Louis felt slightly self-conscious as he watched Harry’s eyes roam his body, dropping from Louis’ face to his chest to his waist to his thighs and back up again. 

“Holy shit,” Harry said. “I’ve never seen you without—”

Harry reached one hand up and dragged a thumb over Louis’ smooth chin.

“—you’re gorgeous.”

Louis felt a flush rise in his cheeks as his eyes found the floor. He kicked his toes together awkwardly. 

“I look like a teenager,” he muttered. “I hate shaving but figured I was looking a bit too grungy to roll up in a children’s theatre.” He glanced up to see Harry’s smile turn into a frown. “Didn’t want any concerned parents calling the cops on me.”

“You look amazing,” Harry said firmly. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. You look amazing with the scruff, and you look amazing without it.” 

Harry stepped forward and placed one hand under Louis’ chin, allowing him to lift his face up until their eyes met. Louis reached out and took Harry's free hand as he rose up onto his tippy toes, placing a sweet kiss to his lips. He felt Harry insert his big fingers into the gaps between his own as he rubbed circles onto the skin between Louis’ thumb and index finger. He groaned quietly as Harry sucked gently on his bottom lip.

Louis pulled away slowly, lightly pecking the skin at the corner of Harry’s mouth and feeling the corners of his lips turn up into a soft smile. He dropped back down onto his heels and squeezed Harry’s hand.

“How’s the foot today?” Harry whispered quietly. 

He nuzzled his nose against Louis’ forehead. Louis pressed a chaste kiss to the nape of Harry’s neck and breathed in his scent. He smelled like a mixture of clean soap and something fruity and a little bit like freshly cut grass. 

“Much better,” Louis said as he linked his pinky finger together with Harry’s. “Barely even limping. Still going to wrap it for my footie game tomorrow just in case, though.” 

“Better safe than sorry.”

“Exactly.”

Louis took one last, deep breath before pulling away. He left their fingers entwined.

“We’re going to be late,” Harry said through his grin, looking very much like he did not care.

“Shit,” Louis pulled out his phone and checked the time. “I wanted to see the inside of your flat but that’s going to have to wait… we have less than ten minutes to get downtown and park. Liam’s going to flip his shit if I come in late again. The doors are really fucking loud… it makes a huge scene… it’s a whole thing. Where are Niall and Zayn?”

“Oh, uh,” Harry leaned into the flat and grabbed his wallet from a table by the door. He turned the key in the lock as he shut it behind him. “I told them to drive separately. Didn't want to have to deal with getting them home later.” 

Louis thought he saw a small blush rising in Harry’s cheeks. He smiled to himself as he turned away.

“Oh,” Louis said. Excitement pooled in his gut as he thought about having Harry all to himself after the play. “Perfect. Excellent. Good thinking.” 

Harry smirked as he took Louis’ hand and led him toward the stairs.

“Off to Neverland,” Louis chirped as he skipped ahead, dragging Harry behind him in his wake.

 

******  
6.2

THE PLAY  
Friday, May 8, 2015

HARRY  
******

 

The theatre lights dimmed as a scattering of applause spread through the crowd. Harry reached into his pocket to pull out the tangerine that he had stowed away earlier. He dug his nail into the thin rind and peeled it back slowly. 

"Are you honestly eating an orange right now?" Louis whispered into his ear, plainly amused as he stuffed a handful of greasy popcorn into his face. "Who even are you?"

"What??" Harry asked. He smiled over at Louis as he popped a section of the fruit into his mouth. "Also, this is not an orange. This is a tangerine."

"Same thing."

Louis threw a piece of popcorn directly into Harry’s eye as the show began. Harry shook his head in disapproval as he settled back into his chair and continued to eat. 

"It absolutely is _not_ the same thing," Harry muttered.

He turned his attention to the stage and watched as three tiny children pretended to wake up in their small beds. They called out for Wendy as Peter jumped out of a faux window, leaving his shadow behind. Harry loved Peter Pan. Also, the kids were really fucking cute. 

"Liam's somewhere off over there," Louis murmured, wiping his buttery popcorn hand on the already saturated napkin in his lap. 

He pointed toward the heavy, velvet curtain lining the side of the stage. Harry saw that the curtain was pulled aside in a corner, creating a small opening just large enough for the children to move through. He watched as the boy playing Peter crept through the darkness and disappeared behind the curtain. 

"There he is," Louis said as a shadowy figure moved aside to allow a new cast member to emerge. "He has to stand there and make sure the kids hit their cues."

"Shhhh!" 

Harry turned to see an old woman scowling at Louis from the row behind them, one hand pressed firmly to her lips. Louis shot a scathing look over his shoulder before turning back toward Harry and continuing as though the interruption hadn't happened. He did lower his voice a bit, though. 

"Liam lives for this shit," Louis whispered. 

His tone seemed uninterested as though he personally did not care for children's theatre productions. Harry might have believed him if not for the sweet smile on his lips as he watched a toddler-age child have a sneezing fit on stage, the gold glitter sprinkled on his head by Tinkerbell falling onto his face. Fucking adorable.

Harry took a deep breath in through his nose as Louis sat hunched into his space. Harry could smell the spicy scent of his aftershave. 

"They are adorable," Harry said. 

He watched as Tinkerbell grabbed the boy's hand and they pretended to fly off to Neverland. He heard Louis make a quiet, fond sound from next to him before resting his hand on Harry's, his small fingers lacing themselves between his own. Harry looked down to find Louis already smiling up at him, smelling of popcorn and looking absolutely beautiful in the darkness of the theatre. 

Harry leaned in to place a soft kiss to his forehead. He caught Zayn's eye over the top of Louis' hair. He smirked as Harry pulled his lips back, allowing Louis to sink into his side with his head resting heavily against Harry's shoulder. 

It was a good night.

 

******

 

“You know, you actually look quite a bit like Peter Pan,” Harry said to Louis.

They rose to their feet as the curtain closed. The audience clapped and the parents cheered loudly as the children lined up beside each other on stage, hand in hand as they took their final bow. The look Louis shot him from the corner of his eye could have made it snow in the middle of the theatre. 

“Excuse me,” Louis said over the applause, “I most definitely do _not_. Peter Pan wears fucking tights.” 

Harry watched as Louis tried to wave and catch Liam’s attention where he stood in the shadows beside the stage. 

“Hate to break it to you, Lou, but these aren’t too far off.” 

Harry slipped two fingers into Louis’ back pocket. He pulled playfully on the tight fabric and released, letting it snap back against Louis’ ass. Louis let out a scandalized gasp and turned to smack Harry’s hand away playfully.

“Harold!” Louis hissed as he brought his hand to his chest. “I am shocked at the indecency. There are children! Think of the children!” 

Harry could see a smile dancing at the corners of his lips. He reached out and wrapped his hand around Louis’ wrist, pulling him into his side and pressing a kiss to his temple. 

Everything was new and fun and flirty with Louis and the play was over and Harry needed to get him home immediately. He had plans. Big plans. It had been five days since their first kiss and Harry had been horny as hell since then, but he had, with great difficulty, refrained from having a wank to the memory of Louis pressed up against the door, whimpering into his mouth. Any fantasy he could conjure up would probably pale in comparison to the real thing, so why not just wait? It had been really, really hard, though. Really hard.

Literally.

The theatre lights slowly brightened until the entire audience was illuminated. People stood gathering their belongings and attempting to slide sideways out of the narrow rows of seats, making their way toward the exits. Harry turned and caught the tail end of Niall and Zayn's conversation.

"...d'you think if Tinkerbell was normal sized, her and Peter would get together in real life?" Niall asked, his voice nearly drowned out by the buzz of the people around him. "They would make a hot couple."

"Niall, mate... the actors were, like, fifteen years old," Zayn muttered under his breath. "Please don't talk about them making a hot couple. And for God's sake, don't say it to Liam, he'll probably never invite us back around the kids again."

"Speaking of Liam," Harry cut in from over Zayn's shoulder, "Louis and I were going to walk backstage and have a word with him. Congratulate him and stuff. Apparently he'll have to stay here late cleaning up. Want to join?"

"Yes," Zayn said immediately. He cleared his throat and looked away, eye line focused on the stage. "I mean, we should say hello. We wouldn't want to be rude." 

Harry had to turn away to keep from laughing in his face. 

He slid sideways out of their row and weaved through the sea of people loitering in the aisles, with Louis leading the way and Harry following closely behind. Louis ducked behind a thick, velvet curtain and took an immediate right, his confidence making it very obvious to Harry that this was not his first time making the journey backstage. 

Harry made a mental note to ask how Louis how many of Liam's plays he had attended over the years.

He spotted Liam in a dark corner backstage where he stood hanging costumes onto a wardrobe rack and chatting animatedly with one of the young cast members and their families. Harry recognized the child as the girl who had played Captain Hook. He had paid extra close attention to her as she had been fucking adorable up there, her heavy black wig slightly too big for her head and slipping down over one eye. He wondered if anyone would notice if he just scooped her up and took her home with him.

Louis stopped a few feet away from Liam, allowing him space to finish his conversation. Harry paused just slightly behind him and rested one hand gently on Louis' hip. He felt his body lean instinctually into the touch, his upper back just barely touching Harry's chest, lightly brushing his ass up against Harry's thigh. 

A shiver ran through Harry. Chill bumps rose on his arms and a heavy excitement unfurled in his gut. Louis felt magnetic. They felt magnetic. 

Harry breathed in deeply through his nose and let the smell of Louis' shampoo wash over him. He stepped back and dropped his hand from Louis' hip as Niall and Zayn arrived to his right.

Liam finished his conversation and bent down to hug the child as he praised her for her performance. It was very sweet. He stood up and shook hands with her parents before waving them off. He turned and his eyes found Louis as his mouth turned up into an excited smile and his hand lifted in a friendly wave. Harry watched as Liam looked from Louis to Harry, waving excitedly, and then from Harry to Niall. Liam's eyebrows shot up as his eyes finally registered Zayn on the end, his hand frozen and suspended stupidly in mid-air.

"Did you not tell him you were inviting Zayn?" Harry whispered to Louis as they walked toward Liam, a visible flush rising in his cheeks as he went back to hanging up the costumes. 

"Nope," Louis chirped, catching Harry's eye.

"You," Harry mumbled into Louis’ ear while discreetly placing his hand on his lower back, "are sneaky."

"Honestly, I just couldn't handle Liam moping around the flat another day." 

"Hey guys!" Liam greeted the four men. He stepped forward to pull Louis into a friendly hug. "Thank you for coming, really, I had no idea Louis had invited _all_ of you." 

Harry heard a small squeak from Louis as Liam's hand placed a well-aimed twist to his nipple.

Harry watched as Louis rubbed his sore nipple in a slow, circular motion. He caught Harry’s eye. He smirked but didn’t lower his hand, stroking the swollen skin even slower instead. Harry should look away. Give him, like, two seconds. Maybe three.

"Harry, Niall, Zayn," Liam's smile was huge as he shook each of their hands. “Good to see you again. Thanks for coming.”

"The play was amazing," Niall cut in. "Really excellent, couldn't believe they were little kids up there, me'self… did a real good job."

"Yeah, it was really good," Harry said, smiling at a very obviously pleased Liam. "Peter Pan's one of my favorites. They did it justice."

"Thanks guys," Liam dropped to the floor to pick up another costume from the pile and place it on a hanger. "We've been rehearsing for ages and the kids were so psyched about this one. More than any other show, I think.”

Harry glanced sideways to peek at Zayn, his silence noticeable in their small group. Zayn was looking at Liam with a kind of dumb, star-struck look painted on his face. 

Harry discreetly tapped him on the back to get his attention. He nodded his head toward Liam pointedly in a way that he hoped would convey to Zayn that he should speak.

Idiot.

"Who painted that set?" Zayn blurted out, his tone more accusatory than curious. 

Harry winced.

"Uh," Liam said as he glanced around at the random set pieces littering the backstage area, clearly confused and looking a bit self-conscious. "Volunteers. I mean, they could be better, I know, but we don't have the budget to pay someone just to do set and props so we kind of rely on the help of—"

"No, no," Zayn broke in, shaking his head and raising one hand in front of him to stop Liam, "sorry, I didn't mean it to come out that way. I was just curious. I quite like them, actually. They’re good." 

Liam's face broke into a wide smile.

"Oh, well, in that case, thanks."

Liam dropped his gaze to the floor, suddenly very interested in the tile pattern. A few beats passed where no one said anything. Harry was about to speak up to break the awkward silence when Zayn spoke.

"You know, if you ever needed, like, help painting the sets or whatever," Zayn gestured toward Captain Hook's ship behind them, "I could help. I paint. Do art. Stuff like that. I'd be happy to help."

"He's really good, mate," Niall chimed in, "he's, like, a proper artist." 

Liam never broke his gaze, instead continuing to look directly at Zayn as Niall spoke. Niall didn’t seem to care as he wandered off, his attention apparently distracted by a large, fake tree in the back corner. 

"Really?" Liam said. "That would be amazing actually, yeah. Thank you."

"Here, let me give you my number and you can just text me or whatever the next time you need volunteers." 

Zayn slid his phone out of his pocket to text Liam his number. Harry smiled to himself and turned toward Louis, leaving the two men to their own devices. 

"About bloody time," he said under his breath.

"It's nice that you're cool with it," Louis said.

His blue eyes shined up at Harry from underneath his long lashes.

"Well I would be quite the hypocrite if I wasn’t, wouldn’t I?” 

He reached up to run one finger over Louis' smooth, high cheekbones. It was true. How could Harry be upset by Zayn flirting with Liam when Harry himself was hopelessly falling for Louis? 

"Hey, Liam! Hey Louis!" 

Harry heard a pleasant voice call out from somewhere behind him. He turned to see a woman with bright blonde hair and a matching blonde baby on her hip heading toward them from across the room. 

“Luxie!” Harry heard Louis shout excitedly. 

Louis rushed past Harry, his arms outstretched as he made grabby hands toward the baby with the stupidest, most adorable, scrunched-up smile on his face. Harry was going to die.

“Hey Lou,” Liam said as he greeted the woman with a sideways hug. She handed the baby off to a waiting and impatient Louis. “Thanks again for the help tonight, the kids looked great.”

“Of course, of course!” the blonde woman said happily. “Who are your friends?” 

She turned to face Harry and Zayn. Where he hell did Niall go?

“Lou, this is Harry, my… brother?” Liam trailed off. The words sounded awkward despite the smile on his face. 

“Oh, how wonderful! You didn’t tell me you had a brother,” Lou said as she reached her hand out to shake Harry’s. “And so handsome, too. I’m Lou, my kid was Tinkerbell. I help Liam out with the hair, makeup, little stuff like that.” 

She smiled at Harry flirtatiously and held onto the handshake slightly longer than was necessary. Harry smiled back. He was about to respond when he felt something collide with his shoulder, knocking his hand free from Lou’s.

“Whoops, sorry about that,” Louis’ voice rang out, “lost me balance for a second, there.” 

Harry looked over to see Louis holding the baby on one hip, smirking and clearly pleased with his work. Jealous little shit. Harry felt his chest warm as he smiled back at him.

“Ugh, are you shitting me?” Lou huffed exasperatedly, realization dawning as she watched their exchange. 

Harry laughed and ran one hand through his hair as he tore his eyes away from Louis – a difficult task, considering he was absolutely stunning _and_ he was holding a baby. 

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “you’re very pretty, if it’s any consolation. Love your blouse.” 

Harry turned back to face Louis just in time to see him cross his eyes and puff his cheeks out, prompting a loud giggle from the child. God, he was adorable. 

“And who is this little beauty?” Harry cooed as he leaned down, reaching his big hand out to gently stroke her arm. 

“This,” Louis said, smiling as he bounced the child on his hip, “is Lux. Lou’s daughter.”

“This is the cutest kid I’ve ever seen.”

He laughed as Lux reached up to grab a handful of Louis’ perfectly sculpted quiff and yanked hard. Louis squealed in protest, allowing his head to follow her hand. 

“Owwww, Lux, you’ve killed me!” Louis said dramatically, making a face like he was dying. 

Lux cracked up and reached her hand out to wrap her tiny baby fingers around Louis’ thumb. 

Harry was actually going to die.

“You’re so good with her,” Harry said fondly.

He felt butterflies in his stomach as he watched Louis tickle her belly. The crinkles by his eyes were deep and pronounced as he smiled big and bright at the child on his hip, giggling along with her whenever she laughed.

“Guess that’s what happens when you grow up the oldest in a house full of kids,” Louis said as he tugged up on the sock Lux was currently kicking off. “Mum actually just had two more not too long ago. Twins. Cutest kids in the world.”

“I dunno, Lux might have that particular title locked down,” Harry teased.

He reached out and booped her tiny nose with one of his big clumsy fingers, grinning as her eyebrows shoot up in response. Louis smiled at Harry, looking equally as endeared as Harry felt.

“She is definitely a darling,” Louis said. 

Harry watched as Lux wrapped both hands around Louis’ neck and tucked her face up into his shoulder. He pulled her close into his chest, looking up at Harry from under his long eyelashes, his blue eyes sparkling. 

“I love kids,” he smiled. 

Harry was half-hard. Fuck.

“Just another thing you’ve got in common with Peter Pan,” he teased. 

He attempted to discreetly adjust his cock in his jeans without being too obvious. Touching yourself in the middle of a children’s theatre was probably grounds for arrest, although standing there watching Louis tugging on Lux’s curls, Harry figured that the cops should understand. 

Louis turned to hand Lux back to Lou. Harry watched the muscles in his back flexing under his tight blazer and his ass cheeks bouncing in his tight jeans. 

Not helping. Not helping at all. 

“Hey,” Harry said, trying for nonchalant but actually sounding rather gruff. He cleared his throat. “You, uh, you ready to get out of here?” 

Louis turned to face Harry. His smile was bright and his face was glowing. 

“Absolutely."

The men said their goodbyes. Liam and Zayn were talking animatedly about the set and barely took the time to wave at Louis and Harry as they left. 

“Where did Niall get off to?” Louis asked as they walked toward the exit. 

“Dunno." 

He very much did not care about anything other than getting Louis back to his flat in record speed. Actually, he hadn’t thought about where they were heading until now. If they went to Louis’ flat, Liam would come home eventually. Even though Liam had been cool with the situation so far, Harry didn’t feel like he would appreciate overhearing what was about to (hopefully) happen. 

“Hey, wanna come back to my place? Finally take that tour of my flat?”

“Drop the act, Styles,” Louis said as he shot him a flirtatious wink. “You’re not fooling anyone with that. Looking at me all innocent-like, with your big stupid green doe-eyes and adorable smile, as if you don’t have absolutely deplorable intentions.” 

Louis cackled as he exited the theatre into the dark parking lot, leading Harry to the car by the hand.

“How do you know what my intentions are?” Harry flirted back. “And, also, you think my smile is adorable?” 

Harry flashed him his cheekiest grin as he climbed into the passenger seat.

Louis sighed as he fastened his seatbelt and rested the back of his head against the seat. He looked over at Harry and reached his hand across the armrest to take Harry’s fingers in his, rubbing gentle circles into the skin on the back of his hand.

“I would love a tour of your flat,” Louis said, his voice raspy and eyes smoldering.

Shit.

“Drive," Harry grumbled. He squeezed Louis’ hand as he reversed out of the parking space. “Quickly.” 

 

******

 

Harry regretted his request for speed almost immediately. They were definitely going to die on this car ride, despite it only being a few kilometers to his flat. He didn’t want to let go of Louis’ hand, but he really felt as though they were cheating death and Louis’ one-handed driving was not doing them any favors.

“Here you go,” Harry said, gently placing Louis’ hand on the wheel and pulling his own away gently. 

“What?” Louis asked, looking directly at Harry and not even a little bit toward the road. “You don’t trust me?”

“I absolutely—” Harry leaned over and took Louis’ chin between his thumb and the crook of his index finger, guiding his face back toward the street ahead, “—do not.”

“You are precious cargo, I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your safety! I happen to be an excellent driver.” 

He took the turn onto Harry's street wildly as the car behind them honked. 

“Oh, fuck off,” Louis muttered, flipping them his middle finger as they passed.

Harry sent up a silent ‘thank you’ as Louis parked the car, grateful to whoever was watching over them for getting them home safely.

“That was the most terrifying drive of my life,” Harry said. “I cannot believe someone actually issued you a license.”

Louis stuck his tongue out before climbing out of the drivers seat. Harry stayed seated on the passenger side, fumbling with his seatbelt, seemingly stuck forever inside of this death trap. He watched as Louis walked around the car and opened the door, smirking down at Harry from where he stood above him.

“That seatbelt can be a bit tricky, sometimes,” Louis said, obviously enjoying Harry’s struggle.

“Help?”

Harry jerked at the stubborn clasp and attempted to free himself, failing miserably. 

He watched as Louis leaned down and reached for his hands, prying them away from the buckle with his own delicate fingers. His arm was stretched across Harry’s lap, his elbow just brushing the fabric of Harry’s zipper. 

Louis leaned his head forward. His face was close enough for Harry to feel the tip of his nose grazing the side of his neck. His cock twitched in his jeans.

“Admit that I’m a good driver,” Louis murmured.

His breath was hot as it blew over Harry’s ear. Harry shifted in his seat, his cock twitching again as Louis’ low, raspy voice uncoiled something deep in his gut. 

“But you’re not,” Harry said. 

A shiver ran through his body as Louis removed his hand from the buckle, taking extra care to drag his elbow and forearm across Harry’s crotch. Shit.

“Well, then I guess you’re just going to sit in here until you figure out how to get out.”

Louis pulled away and reached back to close the car door.

“No! No, Lou, wait—“ 

He was half-hard in his pants and stuck in a fucking car seat. He grabbed Louis’ hand and pouted up at him. Louis was smirking again, his eyes twinkling in the light from the streetlamp above. 

“—Sorry. You are an excellent driver. The best. Incredible, even. Truly amazing.”

Louis giggled and reached his arm back across Harry to jiggle the buckle and release the clasp.

“Just have to know the right spots to touch,” Louis said playfully.

He leaned back to allow Harry to climb out of the car.

“Is that what you say to all the girls?” Harry asked. 

They entered his building and climbed the stairs, their hands intertwined and butterflies flittering wildly in Harry's stomach. He stopped in front of his door and dug his key out from his pocket before inserting it into the lock. 

“Try not to be too impressed,” he smirked at Louis as he turned the key and pushed the door open. 

Harry felt eyes on his back as Louis followed him into the flat. He dropped his keys and wallet onto the table in the entryway and heard the door close softly behind him. He turned to see Louis staring at him from the entrance, his hands clasped behind his back and teeth gnawing his lip.

Fuck. 

“So… this is it,” Harry said a bit awkwardly. 

Louis stayed put, rocking back and forth from his heels to his toes. 

“This is the living room,” Harry waved at the cluttered but clean space to his right, flicking on a lamp as he walked further into the flat, “and the kitchen’s, like, over there.” 

He waved toward the opposite end of the room where the small kitchen was illuminated only by the dim light over the stove. He turned back toward Louis to see him still standing in the doorway, shadows cast over his face, his high cheekbones more prominent than usual as the lamplight hit his smooth skin.

“You are beautiful,” Harry said softly. 

He locked eyes with Louis from across the room, half expecting him to drop his gaze to the floor and protest the compliment, but he didn’t. He stared back at Harry, his eye line unwavering and expression intense.

“Fuck,” Louis blurted out. 

Harry could see that his chest was visibly rising and falling with each breath. He watched as Louis took four quick strides across the room and launched himself into Harry’s arms. Harry felt Louis’ hands lock around the back of his neck as he pulled himself up, his legs wrapping around his waist as Harry reached underneath Louis’ thighs to offer him some support. Louis’ lips crashed into Harry’s, opening immediately to allow his tongue to slip inside. 

Harry carried Louis forward as a guttural groan escaped his throat, slamming Louis’ body against the living room wall. He jumped in surprise, squeezing Louis tight as a picture frame crashed to the floor. The glass shattered across the old hardwoods.

“Shit!” 

Harry pulled away from Louis’ mouth and glanced down to see the source of the commotion. He turned his face to see Louis’ blue eyes twinkling, his skin crinkled adorably at the corners as he giggled into his fist.

“Whoops,” he said, a devilish smile on his face and not looking the least bit sorry. 

Harry leaned in to kiss it off. He covered his mouth with his own as he pressed Louis up hard against the wall, grinding his hard cock against the bottom of his ass. He allowed his left hand to roam up Louis’ chest and fumble with the sleeves of his blazer as he attempted to tug it off, his other hand finding Louis’ crotch and palming at his dick through his tight jeans. 

Harry kissed his way from Louis’ mouth to his neck, sucking and licking as his fingers continued to pull the blazer off. Louis tilted his head back and gasped as Harry marked the sensitive skin with his teeth, grabbing a fistful of Harry’s curls and pulling hard.

“Hazza,” he choked out, one hand still tangled in Harry’s hair and the other tugging wildly at the hemline of his shirt, attempting to pull it off. “Bedroom.” 

His voice was strained. 

“Now.”

Harry grabbed a bit of the swollen skin between his teeth and bit playfully. His hands found Louis’ ass and lifted him off of his spot against the wall. Louis immediately grabbed onto the hemline of Harry’s shirt with both hands and tugged it up and over his head as Harry walked them both down the hallway toward his bedroom, tossing it onto the floor behind them as they moved. 

He felt Louis’ mouth on his collarbone, his breath hot and frantic as he bit at the skin, the sharp stinging immediately resonating in Harry’s groin. He groaned as he felt Louis’ hands grasping at his belt buckle, struggling to undo the clasp. 

Harry’s knees hit the mattress and he tossed Louis backward onto the bed, watching him bounce twice as he threw his head back and giggled. 

Harry stood at the foot of the bed breathing heavily. He watched as Louis scooted backward, his upper body propped up on his elbows as he grinned up at Harry. His smile fell as Harry dropped both hands to his belt. 

Louis watched, his pupils blown and eyes following Harry’s fingers as they worked to unfasten the clasp and discard the belt onto the floor beside him. Harry watched Louis squirm as he dropped his fingers to the button of his jeans before slowly pulling down on the zipper, the waistband of his pants flopping loosely to either side of his hard cock pressing up against his pants. 

Louis brought one hand to his own crotch and palmed at his hard dick through his jeans. 

“Jesus, you’re fit,” he said to Harry, his chest heaving. “Fucking love those tattoos, too. Are those ferns? Shit, come here.” 

Louis pushed himself up onto his knees and walked forward toward the edge of the bed. 

Harry moved toward him and covered Louis’ mouth with his lips as both hands moved to the hemline of Louis’ shirt. He had left the blazer on the floor of the living room, most likely lying in the pile of broken glass. Harry pulled Louis’ shirt up and over his head as Louis slipped his thumbs under the waistband of Harry’s jeans where they sagged loose across his hipbones. He felt Louis slide his hands down, pulling the fabric with them. 

Harry groaned and ran his hands up the smooth length of Louis’ torso. He kissed Louis’ chest as he wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and pulling him on top of his body.

Harry kicked his jeans off onto the floor behind him as he walked his way up Louis’ body on all fours, kissing and biting and grabbing at his exposed skin until he finally arrived at his mouth. Louis gasped and arched his back as Harry straddled his thighs, his fingers unbuttoning Louis’ jeans and pulling them off with ease. 

Harry felt Louis’ hands in his hair as he tugged forcefully, snapping Harry’s head back and exposing his throat. He felt Louis’ lips immediately on his exposed neck as his tongue licked long strides over the skin, sucking at the nape, marking the spot where his throat met his collarbone. 

Harry was about to push Louis back flat onto the bed when he felt two hands grab his shoulders and roll him over onto his back. 

“Stay,” Louis said as he straddled Harry’s waist, his voice gruff and firm. 

It took Harry a moment to register the change of pace. He was used to taking control in the bedroom rather being on the receiving end, but he nodded automatically as he caught Louis’ eyes from above him. Something in the way he was looking at him made him want to obey. 

Shit.

“Okay,” Harry nodded. 

His eyes stayed locked on Louis as he leaned down slowly to kiss him. It was gentle and sweet and passionate, their hands intertwining as Louis guided Harry’s arms up above his head. Louis ground his ass down onto Harry’s cock, the thin fabric of their boxers the only thing separating their skin as his mouth worked its way down Harry’s neck with languid kisses.

Harry felt Louis untangle his fingers from his own and place his hands on either side of Harry’s chest, his mouth still planting sweet kisses onto Harry’s throat. He felt Louis’ hips begin to move in slow, steady circles, his ass grinding down against Harry’s cock where it strained against his boxers. 

Harry groaned and grabbed the iron bars of his headboard above him as he thrusted his hips up in time with Louis’ motions. Fuck.

“Oh my God,” Harry gasped.

Louis gripped each of his nipples and rolled them between his thumb and index finger. He felt a heavy pull in his gut as his already achingly hard cock throbbed. Louis repeated the motion. 

“Shit, Lou, fuck—” Harry gasped out. “—I’m close already—stop—” 

Louis pulled his hands away from Harry’s nipples, his hips freezing where he sat on top of Harry’s dick. Harry continued to grind up into him, helpless to stop himself, but the build of his orgasm began to subside slightly. Louis smirked as he leaned forward and placed small bites along the outline of the butterfly on Harry’s abs. 

“I want to lick every inch of you,” Louis murmured, voice lower and even raspier than usual. “I want to lick—” 

He dragged his tongue from left to right across the skin of Harry’s navel. 

“—and bite—” 

He took the waistband of Harry’s boxers between his teeth and pulled. 

“—and kiss—” 

He released the elastic and allowed it to snap against Harry’s skin, placing a hot, open-mouthed kiss onto the fabric where Harry’s thigh met his groin. 

“—every inch.”

Harry writhed underneath Louis’ touch, staring up toward the ceiling and attempting to regulate his breathing. He felt Louis slip his thumbs underneath his boxers and slowly pull them down, his cock springing free when they reached mid-thigh. 

“Holy shit,” he heard Louis mutter.

He looked down to see Louis’ eyes drifting over the length of Harry’s hard dick where it lay resting against the fern tattoos. 

“Where the fuck were you hiding this in those jeans?”

Harry rolled his eyes and smirked down toward where Louis sat straddling his legs and staring hungrily at the swollen cock in front of him. He watched as Louis brought one of his hands to his crotch and rubbed his own dick a few times, groaning as he leaned down to place a wet kiss to the inside of Harry’s thigh.

“Fuck, Lou,” Harry said as he snapped his head back and closed his eyes. 

He felt Louis nudge his legs apart with one of his knee, settling his body in between the gap and placing each of his hands firmly below Harry’s hipbones for support. His hot breath met Harry’s inner thigh as he licked his way up to the soft skin of Harry’s groin. 

He felt Louis’ tongue sweep across one of his balls in a circular motion before Louis took it in his mouth and sucked gently. Harry bucked up and gasped, his cock throbbing and begging to be touched, precome dripping from the tip.

“Please, Lou,” Harry begged, needing Louis to touch him. “Shit – please.” 

He gripped his headboard tighter to avoid reaching down and touching it himself. Self control. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth. 

He shuddered as Louis licked a stripe up the underside of Harry’s cock before taking the entire head into his mouth, his tongue swirling over his slit. Harry groaned deep and guttural as his entire body thrusted up – wanting more, needing more. 

He felt warm saliva dribble down his dick as Louis wrapped his hand around the shaft, stroking it gently to get it slicked up with his spit. His tongue circled around the rim of the head, flicking rapidly over the sensitive spot on the underside, more precome blurting from Harry’s tip. 

“You taste –” 

Louis took Harry’s entire length into his mouth, sucking as he lowered himself down onto Harry, the head of his dick hitting the back of Louis’ throat. Harry moaned and thrusted his hips up, his arms flexing as he pulled on the iron bars of his headboard in an attempt to stave off his already building orgasm. Louis raised back up as he swirled his tongue along the vein on the underside of Harry’s dick. 

“—really fucking good.” 

Louis licked his lips and smiled mischievously up at Harry from where he hovered over his aching cock. 

“Must be all that fruit.” 

Louis took him in again and groaned as the tip hit the back of his throat, the sound sending vibrations through Harry’s cock as he bobbed up and down, sucking and stroking in perfect rhythm. Harry felt his orgasm building at the base of his spine, his muscles flexing as he attempted to come down.

“Fuck, Louis,” he moaned. 

His back arched off of the bed as Louis took him down deeper, removing his hands from Harry’s cock completely and using them to massage his balls instead, his mouth and neck muscles doing most of the work. 

“Fuck, shit, I’m so close, please—” 

The words tumbled out of Harry incoherently. He was impossibly close when he felt Louis pull off, all sensation disappearing with him as Harry’s body stayed suspended in plateau right before orgasm. 

“Fuck, please, Louis, please, don’t stop,” he babbled. 

He dropped his hands from the headboard to the blanket underneath him and grabbed a fistful of bed sheets, twisting them in frustration.

“Do you want to get off like this, or are you up for…” 

Louis’ voice trailed off as he looked at Harry sheepishly. As in-command as Louis had been up until this point, he seemed a bit unsure now. Harry could barely process his words, his body still precariously close to the edge as he writhed on the bed. 

“Huh?” Harry grunted, looking to Louis through clouded eyes. “You want to fuck me?”

“Yes,” Louis answered flatly as he rubbed his dick through his boxers with one-handedly, watching Harry squirm. “But only if you want to. We can go slow, if you’d rather. You’re just so… fuck.” 

Louis’ chest heaved as he stopped touching himself and climbed up Harry’s body toward his face. 

“You’re just so much,” he smiled, leaning in for a sweet, slow kiss.

“So much what?” Harry panted, his chest rising and falling under the weight of Louis on top of him as he lazily kissed his jaw.

“So much everything,” Louis murmured into his ear. 

Harry felt like he might float away.

“Yes,” he said, nodding his head quickly as Louis pulled back to look at him. “Fuck yeah.” 

He rose up and crushed Louis’ lips with his own. Louis giggled, his hands tangling in Harry’s hair as they sat chest-to-chest, Louis still straddling Harry’s naked lap. 

“Was really, really hoping you’d say that,” Louis laughed. “Do you have stuff?”

“Uhh, yeah, in the drawer.” 

Harry motioned toward the end table next to the bed. Louis scampered off his lap and leaned across the bed to tug the drawer open, his hair frazzled and motions slightly frantic. Harry was very aware of the fact that he hadn’t properly touched Louis yet. He must be ready to explode. 

Harry slid off the bed and walked toward the chair in the corner, grabbing the throw blanket draped over the arm. He laid it out over his comforter and climbed on top as Louis turned around, lube in one hand and a condom in the other.

“Good idea,” he said, acknowledging Harry’s makeshift palette underneath him. 

“Usually a good idea if you’re gonna do buttstuff where you sleep,” Harry chirped, leaning in to press a kiss to Louis’ lips. 

Louis snorted out a loud laugh directly into Harry’s mouth.

“Buttstuff?! Who even are you?!” Louis said, giggling into his fist as he looked up at Harry. “Really, I can’t believe out of all the people in the whole world, you’re the one that comes along.” 

He uncapped the lube and squirted some into his hand. 

“Now turn the fuck around.”

Harry’s dick ached, still hard from before and throbbing from the lack of touch. He leaned forward and kissed Louis one last time before flipping onto his stomach and sliding a pillow under his hips. His cock appreciated the contact after being neglected for so long, even if it was only from the fabric. 

He felt Louis lean forward and lay a trail of kisses from the back of Harry’s neck all the way down his spine, his mouth eventually arriving at the top of Harry’s ass. He felt Louis nudging his legs apart and his hand sliding between his cheeks, his finger lightly grazing his hole. 

Harry breathed out steadily, willing himself to relax as he felt Louis insert his finger, working the lube around and familiarizing himself with the terrain. 

Terrain? What the fuck was wrong with him? Thank Christ Louis couldn’t read minds—

Harry’s inner monologue was interrupted when he felt a second finger slide in beside the first, pushing and pulling rhythmically as he felt his body relax into it. The initial discomfort had mostly passed and Harry felt his stomach clenching as his cock throbbed against the sheets beneath him. 

“You’re so tight,” Louis said as he sucked and licked at a spot of skin right above Harry’s ass cheek. 

His fingers thrusted back and forth, scissoring inside of him and working him open. Harry whined as a third finger slid in and Louis slowed his pace, spending extra time stroking Harry’s walls and searching for his prostate. 

Harry groaned into his pillow where his face rested on the crook of his right elbow. His right arm lay curled underneath his head while his left hand twisted into the bedsheets desperately. 

Louis hit his spot and Harry moaned, his hips grinding his dick down into the bed as the pull of his orgasm built deep inside his gut.

“You can touch yourself, you know,” Louis said playfully as he left a small trail of bite marks down his ass cheek. 

He placed a well-timed bite as he stroked Harry’s prostate, prompting a wail from Harry as he fought the urge to grab himself and relieve the mounting pressure.

“If I touch myself I’m gonna fucking come,” Harry panted, his legs kicking out wildly, Louis stroking his spot repeatedly. “Might come anyway – fuck, Lou—FUCK, oh my God, fuck—“ 

“Are you ready?” 

The eagerness was poorly concealed in Louis’ voice as he withdrew his hand and wiped it on the blanket by Harry’s feet.

“Yes, please,” Harry moaned. His cock was leaking precome steadily onto the blanket beneath him as he ground down again, tears streaming from his eyes. “I don’t think I can hold off much longer, fuck—”

He heard Louis rip the condom packet open behind him. He looked back over his shoulder to watch him slide the condom onto his swollen dick. A soft whine escaped him as he threw his head back, clearly struggling to hold on as he rolled the rubber onto his cock.

“Shit,” Louis breathed, finally getting it in place before lining up behind Harry, “this might be a quick fucking affair, I almost lost it with the condom.” 

He leaned forward and wrapped his arm underneath Harry’s belly, pulling up to guide him onto his knees, his forearm brushing against Harry’s cock. Harry groaned into the pillow, attempting to stifle the noise. 

“Don’t be shy, love,” Louis said as he draped himself over the back of Harry, kissing at the nape of his neck. “You sound beautiful.”

Harry felt a flush rise in his face as Louis kissed the corner of his mouth. The angle was awkward but Harry didn’t care, his chest burning with warmth as Louis leaned back and lined himself up behind Harry. He pushed in slowly – painfully slowly, actually – allowing Harry’s body to adjust and relax to the sensation before moving in deeper. 

Harry gripped the iron bars of the headboard in front of him, his forehead pressed to his pillow as he let out a string of profanities with each push until he felt Louis bottom out behind him. He breathed steadily for a moment, allowing himself to relax before lifting his head.

“Move,” he told Louis. “Hard.”

Louis groaned at the words before pulling out and slamming forward. Harry cried out as he repeated the motion over and over again, pain fading to pleasure as he thrusted into him repeatedly. Harry felt himself climbing, his body tensing and his cock throbbing. 

“God, baby, you feel amazing,” Louis babbled from behind him. 

Harry felt Louis’ hand wrap around the sweaty, tangled hair at the base of his neck and pull hard enough to snap Harry’s head up so that he was staring straight ahead toward his headboard. 

“Jesus, fuck, your back—” Louis said, his words broken as he continued to pound, “—your back is so fucking hot—” 

Harry felt Louis drop his forehead to rest against his spine and reach his arm around Harry’s middle.

“Lou – fuck, please, so close, please –“ 

Harry choked out the words, dying to touch himself but wanting to remain as close to the edge for as long as possible, his entire body wound tight and his dick throbbing where it hung neglected in front of him. 

He felt Louis’ arm drop from his abs to his groin as he wrapped his hand around Harry’s dick and stroked once, ramming into his spot repeatedly. Harry cried out and toppled over the edge, shooting white threads of come all over the blanket beneath him as Louis moaned behind him, stroking him through his orgasm. 

He dropped his forehead to his right arm on the pillow beneath him and reached down to wrap his hands around Louis’ left wrist where it rested on his waist, bringing it up to his lips. 

Harry sighed, still riding out the waves as he brought Louis’ index finger into his mouth and sucked hard. He heard Louis cry out, his thrusts stuttering as his own orgasm overtook him, Harry sucking on his finger until Louis’ movements stopped and he laid draped over the back of Harry’s body, lazily kissing his shoulder blade.

“Holy shit,” he said quietly as he placed sweet, closed mouth kisses to Harry’s spine, tracing shapes into the skin of his back. “That was fucking incredible.”

“I think I’m dead,” Harry said, his voice muffled by the pillow beneath him. “You killed me.”

Louis chuckled and peeled his body off of Harry’s back before pulling out of his ass slowly.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Louis asked as he stood next to the bed. 

Harry reached down and tugged the pillow out from underneath him. He dropped from his knees onto his stomach on the clean comforter. He pushed the dirty throw blanket off the bed and onto the floor along with the pillow. He’d deal with that in the morning.

“You mean you weren’t paying attention during our tour earlier?” Harry joked, knowing damn well Louis hadn’t listened to a word he’d said. “Guess you’ll just have to wander around ‘til you find it.” 

“Guess you’ll just have to deal with this nasty condom on your floor and sleeping with lube in your ass, then,” Louis said.

Harry watched as he made to take the condom off like he would actually discard it in the middle of the room. Well, on second thought, he might.

“Second door on the left,” Harry smiled. 

He heard Louis’ bare feet pad down the hallway toward the bathroom. He lay motionless on the bed, his breathing still irregular as he listened to the sound of the faucet turning on.

Louis returned a few moments later with a damp washcloth to clean Harry off. Normally he would be too self-conscious to allow himself to be groomed, but something about Louis made it alright.

“You’re special,” Harry said. Louis tossed the washcloth on top of the dirty blanket on the floor and curled into Harry’s side. “One of a kind.”

“You’re pretty special, too,” Louis murmured. 

Harry wrapped one arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, tucking the comforter around their chests. He pressed a slow, gentle kiss to Louis’ temple, his eyelids heavy as he drifted off to sleep.

“Goodnight, Hazza,” he heard Louis whisper, voice sleepy.

“Goodnight, my filthy little Peter Pan,” Harry said. 

He smiled into Louis’ hair as he nodded off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice.


	7. The Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis plays footie. Harry tags along.
> 
> They both get competitive.

******  
7.1

THE GAME  
Saturday, May 9, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

Louis blinked one eye open in confusion while his sleep-addled brain struggled to bring his surroundings into focus. This was not his bedroom.

It was bright. His face itched. The faint smell of apples. He was sweating. It was warm. Very warm, too warm. There was a large, heavy someone pasted to the front of his body. 

He blinked again, bringing a rose tattoo into focus as he spit a bit of Harry’s hair out of his mouth. 

Harry.

Louis sighed in contentment as he placed a dry kiss to Harry’s shoulder blade where it rose and fell in time with his breathing. His arm was wrapped around Harry’s chest from behind with Harry’s own arm draped over top, their hands curled up next to each other by the butterfly tattoo on his abs. 

Louis reached up and placed his palm flat against the front of Harry’s chest, pulling him closer into the curve of his body despite the heat. Louis felt sticky with sweat from sleeping pressed up against Harry’s back all night, but he didn’t care. 

He breathed in the scent of Harry’s shampoo as he tucked his face into the divot between his neck and shoulder, nuzzling his face into the mess of curls gathered there. Apples. Harry must use apple shampoo.

The thought of shampoo was a subtle reminder to Louis that he hadn’t showered since last night’s fuck-fest. He dropped his nose to his underarm and sniffed once, wincing at the smell. He should definitely shower. 

He lay there motionless for another moment listening to Harry’s steady breathing, raspy and loud in the quiet flat. He peeled himself off of Harry’s back and slid out from under the sheets, doing his best not to disturb the sleeping figure in front of him. 

He made his way down the hallway toward the toilet. His eyes scanned the flat as he walked, cozy and comfortable in the bright morning light. It was fucking adorable. 

There were pictures everywhere – hung on the walls and propped up on shelves – smiling faces staring back at him as he took each one in. The living room was packed with modest but comfortable looking furniture, blankets tossed over the armrests just begging to be cuddled under. Live plants lived potted in nearly every windowsill he passed. 

It was a comfortable place to be. Homey.

Louis smiled to himself as he walked into Harry’s pale yellow bathroom and dropped his underpants to the cool tile floor. He turned the knob on the shower and had a quick wee while he waited for the water to heat up. He turned to see his reflection in the mirror and grinned, taking in the bruises and bite marks scattered over his neck and shoulders. He felt confident that he had left Harry in an even worse state.

Louis stepped into the shower and let the hot water wash last night’s sweat and grime off of his skin. He reached for a bottle on the shelf to his right and turned it to examine the label. 

“Organic Green Apple & Ginger Shampoo,” he murmured. 

He scanned the rest of the label and smiled fondly. Made with all natural ingredients, no sulfates… sugar, coconut oil, organic kelp, organic maca root. 

“What the fuck is maca root,” Louis mumbled as he turned the bottle over in his hand and sat it back on the shelf. 

He smiled softly as he stepped back under the spray. Of course Harry washes his hair with roots.

He rolled his head back and forth and let the water massage his muscles, all the while thinking about the man sleeping in the bed down the hall. He was… happy. 

His chest warmed as he remembered how adorable Harry had been with Lux last night – well, through the entire play, really – watching the kids with an endeared look on his face. And then afterward, when it had just been the two of them and Harry had shown Louis an entirely... _different_... side of himself. 

His stomach swooped at the memory.

Louis smiled and tilted his head back, letting the water splash over his face and wash away any remaining traces of sleep. He normally enjoyed having a lie-in on the weekends but, this morning, he felt energized and awake. He also had a footie game in about… two hours. Shit. 

He really just wanted to towel off and go climb back into bed with Harry for the rest of the day. Harry. Still snoozing away down the hall, big and soft and sweet, with his deep voice and slow words and weird quirks and heart of gold. 

Louis was happy.

 

******  
7.2

THE GAME  
Saturday, May 9, 2015

HARRY  
******

 

Harry woke to the sound of running water echoing down the hallway. He reached his hand across the bed and felt the sheets still warm from where Louis had slept beside him. He must not have been up for long. 

Harry stretched his arms above his head and pointed his toes toward the bottom of the bed, feeling a soreness in his bum and lower back that he hadn’t experienced in a while. He smiled as he replayed scenes from last night in his mind, twisting his torso to crack his stiff back.

It was good to be sore.

He slipped out from under the covers and picked up his discarded pants from where they lay crumpled on the floor at the foot of the bed. He padded barefoot across the hardwoods and creeped up to the bathroom door, silently cracking it just wide enough to peek through. He saw the outline of Louis’ naked body through the fogged glass of the shower. The curve of his bum was prominent even through the steam. 

He was about to slip into the room when he heard the sound of Louis humming over the pattering of falling water. He froze in place as he tried to make out the song, smiling to himself as the humming turned to soft singing. The sound of a shampoo bottle popping open was barely audible over the words.

If I don’t say this now I will surely break  
As I'm leaving the one I want to take

Harry leaned against the doorframe and let Louis' voice wash over him. He had never heard Louis sing before. It was beautiful. His voice was high and raspy like his speaking voice, the tone unique and special. Just like Louis. 

Ohh, ohh,  
Be my baby  
And I'll look after you

Harry’s chest warmed as he stood another moment outside the doorway, torn between wanting to go to him and wanting to stay hidden listening to his voice. It was quiet and melodic and controlled. It was so expressive. Emotional. _Different_. 

It wasn’t that Harry was surprised that Louis could sing. He hadn’t mentioned it, but Harry knew by now that Louis had many hidden talents that he didn’t advertise. It was more that this was just one more thing for Harry to be amazed by. 

Louis was full of unexpected surprises and contradictions; he was loud and brash while also being one of the most sensitive and caring people that Harry had ever met, he was outgoing and confident while being secretly self-doubting and unable to accept basic compliments, he was tiny and compact while somehow seeming larger than lif. 

Harry’s thoughts drifted back to last night in the bedroom as he heard Louis’ voice trail off. The sound of the water splashing against the tile was the only noise. 

Last night… Louis and his demands, Louis and his mouth, Louis and his fingers, Louis and his everything. It was so much better than Harry had imagined.

He leaned forward and slipped through the door into the bathroom without making a sound. He walked across the tile floor and dropped his pants, listening as Louis began humming a new song while he lathered shampoo in his hair. 

Harry opened the shower door and slipped in behind him, pressing a soapy kiss to the back of Louis' neck. He stopped singing and sighed, leaning his body back into Harry's chest.

"Don't stop on account of me," Harry murmured into his ear, "I love your voice. You should always be singing. Never not be singing, please. From now on, speak to me only in song."

Louis chuckled as he turned to face Harry, the water splashing against his hair as he rinsed out the shampoo. Small, soapy droplets bounced upward into Harry's face and stung his eyes. 

Harry reached his hands up to massage his fingers over Louis' scalp. He leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to his lips, feeling Louis smile beneath him.

"Didn't hear you there or I would have picked a more annoying song to sing," Louis joked. "'It's a Small World' or 'Never Gonna Give You Up,’ maybe?” 

Harry gasped and stopped the movements of his hands in Louis' hair. He cupped his chin between his thumb and index finger, raising Louis’ gaze to meet his own.

"You would have Rick Rolled me?" Harry asked, horrified. 

Louis giggled as he looked up at him from underneath his long, wet eyelashes. 

"That is… unforgiveable, really. You should probably leave my flat.”

Louis huffed dramatically and splashed water into Harry's face. Harry leaned in for another lazy kiss, feeling Louis' arms wrap around his waist and hands clasp together at the bottom of his spine. 

"Your voice really is beautiful, you know," Harry whispered into his ear. 

Louis dropped his wet forehead to Harry's shoulder, shaking his head back and forth slowly in protest. At least he didn’t argue. 

"It's so unique. I love that song, too."

"It's a favorite," Louis responded, his forehead still resting on Harry's collarbone as Harry worked his hands over Louis' back, massaging the muscles between his shoulder blades. "Love the lyrics, love the piano arrangement. They really nailed it with that one."

"I prefer your version," Harry said softly, kissing Louis lightly on the temple. 

Louis sighed as he pulled Harry in for another kiss before turning their bodies around slowly and submerging Harry in the spray. Harry felt the warm water cascading over him as he reached up to run his hands through his tangled curls. He watched as Louis uncapped the shampoo bottle and squirted a bit into his palm.

“May I?” 

“You sure you can reach?” Harry teased, earning him a swift smack in the arm.

“I am not that short."

Louis' hands worked to lather the shampoo into Harry’s hair. His fingernails dragged over his scalp. Harry fought the urge to moan. 

“I’m 5’9”,” Louis said defiantly. 

Harry was now resisting the urge to moan and laugh.

“Of course you are, love,” he said. 

He wrapped his arms around Louis’ shoulders and pulled him close to his chest as he rinsed the shampoo from his head. Louis seemed satisfied with Harry’s half-assed agreement. 

“So did you think I’d left you when you woke up alone?” Louis teased.

He placed the bottoms of his feet on top of Harry’s as they stood face to face. Harry leaned down and kissed him slowly, warm and wet, the water washing away the taste of morning in their mouths. 

“For a moment,” Harry admitted. “Only when I’d first woken up, though.”

“You actually thought I’d left you?”

“I thought maybe you’d been a dream.” 

Louis looked up at him, his eyes shining and his chest rising and falling heavily, his breathing seemingly strained. Harry watched as Louis raised one hand to his cheek and dragged his thumb across the water droplets, tucking a stray, wet curl behind his ear. 

His chest swelled as Louis stood on his tippy toes and brought his mouth up to meet Harry’s. 

This was his favorite morning.

 

******  
7.3

THE GAME  
Saturday, May 9, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

“Hey, Lou?” Harry asked, his wet lips pressed to Louis’ as he smiled into his mouth. “Can I give you a blowjob?”

Louis snorted out a laugh and dropped back onto his heels before running a hand through his soaked hair, pushing it out of his eyes. 

“We were having a moment, Harold.”

Louis tugged playfully on Harry’s hands where they hung by his sides. He watched the water droplets hit Harry’s broad shoulders and run down his body, over his chest and abs, leaving wet little rivers over the butterfly’s wings as they rolled. He could see that Harry’s cock was half-hard already. Louis could sympathize.

“I am aware,” Harry smirked, “and I was enjoying it very much a lot, to be honest. So much, in fact, that I’d like it to lead to _another_ moment.” 

Louis raised one eyebrow and giggled. Harry’s words were slow and deep. 

“A more… X-rated moment,” Harry purred.

“Ah, well, if you’re going to twist my arm…”

Louis watched as Harry’s arms shot out in front of his body, pressing Louis’ shoulders back against the tile wall of the shower. His mouth crashed into Louis’, his teeth biting and pulling at Louis’ bottom lip. 

Louis threw his head back to expose the column of his neck and allow Harry’s mouth better access as he worked his way down Louis’ body. He dropped to his knees in front of Louis in one fluid motion. Fuck.

“Fuck, Hazza,” Louis groaned, rolling his hips as he felt Harry’s warm, wet mouth kiss and lick his hardening cock. “Fuck, your mouth, your fucking mouth—“

He felt Harry take the head of his dick between his lips as he slid his mouth down the shaft, one hand lazily stroking at the base and the other massaging his balls. The hot water mixed with Harry’s spit made everything wet and warm as Harry’s hand moved steadily over his throbbing cock. 

Harry sucked and hollowed his cheeks as he took him down further, all the way until Louis felt the tip of his cock hit the back of Harry’s throat. He groaned as Harry removed his hands from his groin and gripped the front of Louis’ thighs. 

Louis looked down to see Harry’s big, green eyes staring up at him, mouth full and stretched around his dick. He groaned at the sight. 

Fuck. Fuck.

“Fuck, Harry, Jesus,” he panted.

His hands found the back of Harry’s head and he tangled his fingers in his wet curls. Harry blinked once and bobbed his head forward, Louis’ dick hitting the back of Harry’s throat. He stopped, staring up at Louis, waiting. Louis realized he was granting him permission.

“Shit, yes, fuck,” Louis said, pulling on Harry’s hair to tilt his head back and fuck his face. 

Harry moaned and closed his eyes as Louis thrusted into his mouth repeatedly, the warm water keeping everything hot and slick. Harry’s moans sent vibrations through Louis’ cock as his hips pushed and pulled, tugging on Harry’s hair to open up his throat for better access. 

He felt his orgasm building as he looked down to Harry’s face, his eyes shut tight as his tears mixed with the spray from the shower. Louis felt Harry’s hands move from the front of his thighs to his ass. Harry’s open palms gripped each cheek and covered most of his skin. 

Jesus, his hands were big.

He felt Harry moan and dig his fingernails into Louis’ left ass cheek as he dropped his right hand to his own hard cock and stroked three times. Louis watched as streaks of white come shot out into Harry’s hand and onto the tiles of the shower. Harry’s body shuddered as he came on himself, groaning around Louis’ dick.

“Fuck, Harry, oh God—” 

His body tensed as he climbed and climbed, his orgasm building from the sight of Harry coming, nearly untouched, just from having his face fucked. 

Louis reached his peak as Harry lifted his come-covered hand to massage Louis’ balls, blinking up at Louis from under his wet lashes. He threw his head back and came hard, his body seizing with his orgasm as he cursed and babbled incoherently, his come shooting hot down the back of Harry’s throat. 

He slowed his thrusts as he rode out the aftershocks, loosening his grip in Harry’s hair and wiping at the moisture underneath his eyes with each of his thumbs. He pulled out of Harry’s mouth slowly and groaned as his sensitive cock was freed from between his lips. Harry choked out a breath and dropped his chin to his chest, placing both hands on his thighs as his chest heaved underneath him. 

Louis immediately dropped down onto his knees in front of Harry and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pulling him close into his chest. Harry went easily as he panted and smiled into the side of Louis’ neck. 

Louis kissed his forehead, his temples, his cheeks, his eyelids, the corners of his mouth, his swollen lips. Harry’s body was pliant and open as his breathing slowed. Louis dragged his hands over his back and shoulders as he nuzzled his nose into Harry’s hair.

“You are incredible,” Louis murmured as he continued to place soft kisses onto any part of Harry that his mouth could reach. “Amazing, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Harry picked his head up from where it rested on Louis’ shoulder, his grin wide and eyes shining, the water beginning to turn cool around them as they kissed sweetly and lazily on the tile floor. Louis climbed slowly to his feet and reached down to help Harry up after him. 

Harry winced as he straightened up. He rinsed his face under the water before turning the shower off.

“Your poor knees, love,” Louis said. 

Harry opened the shower door and hobbled out into the bathroom. Louis watched as he reached up to grab two fresh towels from the shelf above the toilet. He dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist before turning back toward Louis and holding the second towel open in front of him. 

Louis stepped out of the shower and felt Harry wrap the soft fabric around him as he pulled him into his chest and kissed his hair.

“Your dick is nice,” Harry finally said. 

His words were slower than usual. His voice was raspy and gruff. Louis chuckled as he felt Harry rub the towel over his body and hair to dry him off. 

“Thank you,” he smirked. 

Harry leaned toward the sink and opened a drawer, pulling out an unopened toothbrush still in the plastic packaging.

“You’re lucky,” Harry held the toothbrush out to Louis. “Just got this from the dentist last week. Brand spanking new. And it’s all yours.”

Louis grabbed the toothbrush and ripped it open as Harry rummaged around in the drawer looking for toothpaste. They stood at the sink and brushed together in silence, with Harry spending some extra time scraping the bristles over his tongue as the toothpaste foamed. He gagged slightly as he hit the back of his throat with the brush.

“Seriously?” Louis laughed as he spit into the sink. “My cock was just halfway to your lungs and you didn’t even blink, but a toothbrush makes you gag?” 

He watched as Harry cupped his hand under the faucet and lifted the water to his mouth, swishing to rinse before spitting into the sink one last time. 

“Want to do brunch?” Harry asked. 

Louis spit his own toothpaste into the sink beside him.

“Ugh, I wish I could,” Louis groaned as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ve got that footie game. I actually need to leave here in like… thirty minutes or so. Shit.”

“You can’t play footie on an empty stomach,” Harry frowned. 

“I’ll just pick up a tea and an energy drink on the way or something, no big deal. You could come, you know.” 

Whoops. Was that too much? Louis walked down the hallway, worried that maybe he shouldn’t have asked. Maybe Harry wanted some alone time. Maybe he hated football.

“Yeah, definitely!” Harry said from behind him, “I love football. Not very good myself but really, really love the game.” 

Louis grinned as he stepped into Harry’s bedroom and bent down to pick up his discarded clothing from yesterday which lay scattered around the floor. He felt Harry’s hand smack his ass cheek as he reached for his pants.

“Fucking hell, Styles!” Louis snapped up and gripped the towel around his waist, rubbing his stinging skin. 

“You’re not actually going to put on dirty pants from yesterday, are you?” 

Louis saw Harry scowling from across the room as he watched him assemble his clothes on the bed.

“How the hell else am I supposed to get home?” Louis asked. “Just drive home in this towel?”

A clean pair of pants hit the side of Louis’ face as he dropped his towel to the floor.

"Those are clean," Harry said. "Take them."

He turned to see Harry’s eyes roaming over his naked body. He may have taken a few extra moments before slipping each leg into the clean fabric and pulling them up and over his ass. 

“Your bum,” Harry said, one eyebrow raised and a devilish look on his face. “It is very distracting.”

Louis wiggled his ass in Harry’s direction and smacked an open palm against his cheek. Harry giggled. Louis was no fool – knew his bum was his best feature – and it had not slipped past him just how quickly Harry had come after grabbing his ass in the shower.

“I know.”

“I’ll let you get dressed,” Harry said as he walked past Louis toward the door. 

He set a pair of joggers and a clean, white tee on the bed in front of Louis before leaning in and kissing him on the temple. Louis pulled on the joggers and unfolded the tee, feeling the soft, worn fabric under his fingers. The elastic in the neckline had long since lost its shape and the KISS logo on the front was faded, but it was clean and smelled like Harry. Louis pulled it over his head and smoothed out the front of the shirt, breathing in Harry’s scent.

He knew that he probably shouldn’t snoop around Harry’s room while he wasn’t in there, but Louis couldn’t help himself… he was curious. 

He scanned the room and took in the décor. The walls where white with maps and pictures and drawings tacked up all over the place. The furniture seemed to be mismatched, but nice. Harry’s large, four-poster bed commanded the attention, adorned with a fluffy white comforter and far too many pillows. A colorful, worn-looking, patchwork quilt lay folded across the bottom. Louis wondered who had made it.

Louis walked slowly around the bed to examine the pictures propped up against the painted dressers. There were lots of pictures. Harry and two beautiful women that Louis assumed were his mum and sister. Harry and Niall and Zayn. Harry and other friends that Louis didn’t recognize. Harry in beautiful places with a backpack on his back, smiling big and bright into the camera. 

A huge world map hung on the wall over the bed with small red dots dispersed around the globe. America, Brazil, lots of dots around Europe, a few in Southeast Asia. 

Louis’ eyes landed on one picture in particular that stood lined up among the rest of the snapshots of his life. Harry and Liam from The Grade 8 a few weeks ago. Liam had taken the selfie late in the night when they had all been sufficiently drunk and had posted it on his Instagram the next morning. Liam must have either sent it to Harry or Harry must be creeping on Liam’s social media. Either way, it had meant enough to Harry for him to have it printed and framed. 

Louis’ chest ballooned with affection. Harry had a heart of gold.

Louis opened the bedroom door and padded down the hallway, the smell of bacon hanging in the air through the flat. He emerged into the living room and crept across the hardwoods toward the kitchen where Harry stood with his back turned to Louis, frying bacon in a skillet at the stove.

“I told you, you didn’t need to do that,” Louis said as he walked up behind him, slipping his arms around Harry’s waist. “We’ve got to get a move on if I want to make warm-ups.”

“Eating won’t take long, it’s not much,” Harry said. He turned his head to place a quick kiss to Louis’ lips before flipping the bacon in the pan. “You can’t play on an empty stomach. This will give you more energy than one of those drinks, anyway. Those things are poison.”

Louis turned toward Harry’s small breakfast table to see a bowl full of cubed fruit sitting in the middle surrounded by two glasses of orange juice and some scrambled eggs.

“Holy shit, are you serious?” Louis said, taking in the spread. “You call this ‘not much’? A gourmet breakfast, this is.” 

He sat down into one of the worn, wooden chairs and dumped a large helping of eggs onto his plate as Harry brought the sizzling bacon over to the table. Louis dug in as Harry sat down, spooning heaps of fruit onto his own plate.

“You’re not having any fruit?” Harry said, his brow creased. 

“Not big into fruit. Never have liked it much. Hated it as a kid, so I don’t eat it now.” 

He scooped up some eggs using a piece of his bacon and shoveled the hot food into his mouth. He hadn’t noticed until now but he was fucking starving.

“Have you tried it recently, though?” Harry said, clearly hoping to be able to sway Louis. “Maybe just a bit of the pineapple, or some of the banana. If you’re playing footie, you should really have some banana. Your muscles need potassium. Helps with cramping.”

Louis frowned as he watched Harry’s eager face. He really, really didn’t want fruit, but Harry looked so fucking cute as he talked about fruit. What a conundrum. 

Louis picked up the serving spoon and got a piece of pineapple, three chunks of sliced banana, a few grapes and two orange slices. Harry beamed as Louis bit into the banana and winced.

“Just doesn’t do anything for me,” Louis said, chasing the taste with some orange juice.

“Have some pineapple, then,” Harry pointed. “You’ll like that one.”

“I hate pineapple,” Louis grumbled as he speared a chunk with his fork.

“Have you ever had pineapple?” 

“Don’t think so."

He bit into the fruit. Juice squirted down his chin. Nice. He wiped it away with his napkin as he chewed, surprised to find that he actually did not hate this.

“I don’t hate this.” 

Harry clapped his hands together happily as he picked up his fork and took a bite of his eggs. 

“Still prefer bacon, though,” Louis said as he took another big bite of bacon and eggs.

“Your body needs more than a fry-up to be its most productive self throughout the day,” Harry said, chugging half of his glass of orange juice. “Especially if you’re an athlete.”

“The grease fuels me."

Louis picked up the last strip of bacon and ate it whole. Harry frowned. 

“Fine,” Louis huffed.

He popped three grapes into his mouth in quick succession. Harry’s frown turned up into a smile as he watched Louis eat the fruit.

Louis felt Harry’s foot hook around the back of his own underneath the table, his toe dragging up and down the back of Louis’ calf. Harry smiled into his orange juice across the table.

“This is a great breakfast,” Louis said as he forked up the last bite of eggs from his plate. “Thank you, really.” 

Harry smiled even bigger as he sat his glass down and dug into his own fruit.

“Hey Lou,” Harry said as he bit into an orange slice. “Why do monkeys like to eat bananas?”

Louis leaned back in his chair and rubbed his belly. He stared at Harry amusedly. He was already giggling and he hadn’t even said the punch line. Idiot. 

Louis raised an eyebrow.

“Because they have _appeal_.” 

Harry cackled as Louis attempted not to laugh. His jokes were fucking terrible.

“Get it? Appeal. A peel,” Harry explained. 

Louis couldn’t help himself; his resolve cracked and he snorted out a loud laugh, giggling as Harry grinned at him from across the table. 

“You do talk some shit, don’t you?” Louis said fondly. 

Harry laughed as he stood up and grabbed their plates before walking them to the sink.

“Made that one up myself,” he said proudly as he set the plates down. “I’ll deal with those later. Let me just put some clothes on and I’ll be ready to go.” 

He watched as Harry scurried off down the hall, leaving Louis alone at the table, completely satisfied as he sipped on the remainder of his orange juice. He emerged a few moments later wearing athletic shorts and a black Nike workout shirt, his long curls tied back with a rolled up bandana. 

“Fuck, you’re hot.” 

Louis stood to his feet and walked around the table toward Harry. He saw a slight blush rise in Harry’s cheeks as he smiled softly at Louis and ran a hand through the fringe above his eyes. Louis leaned up and pressed a closed-mouth kiss to his lips, grinning as Harry’s big hands found his ass. 

“Yeah, well, you look really good in my shirt,” Harry said softly. “Ready to go?”

“Ready,” Louis said. “Actually, I’m not sure where the fuck I threw my keys in last night’s… commotion.” 

He scanned the room and spotted them lying on the table by the door beside Harry’s. 

“I found them earlier on the floor,” Harry explained as he walked, leading Louis by the hand through the door and into the hallway. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“So clucky,” Louis skipped down the stairs ahead of Harry. “Just got to swing by my flat and grab my shit… I took my footie bag out of my car yesterday before I picked you up.”

“Trying to impress me?” Harry smirked as he slid into the passenger seat.

“More like trying not to actively frighten you away,” Louis said. “Did it work?”

“Not afraid. Not yet, at least.” 

Harry reached across the armrest to take Louis’ hand.

“Good.” 

Louis smiled as he pulled onto the street, squeezing Harry’s fingers as he drove.

 

******  
7.4

THE GAME  
Saturday, May 9, 2015

HARRY  
******

 

“So… he’s just not coming?” Louis frowned at Liam. 

Harry was standing slightly behind him on the sideline, watching as Louis bent down and stretched his hamstrings. His white shorts were stretched tight across his bum. The white fabric of his jersey moved as the muscles in his back flexed. 

Harry was loving this footie game so far. 

“Nope,” Liam said, popping the ‘p’ extra loud. 

“That’s shit.” 

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked.

“Our goalkeeper bailed,” Louis grumbled. 

Harry watched as he twisted his upper body to stretch his back before jogging in place, rapidly bringing each knee up high toward his chest before leaning against the bench to stretch his calf. Harry’s eyes were glued to his skin, entranced by the way his body moved. 

“Bailed _again_ ,” Liam corrected.

“Ah, yes, bailed _again_ , thanks, Payno,” Louis said dryly. “And we’re already fucking short today. No clue who I’m going to throw in the goal.”

“Hey, Harry could play!” Liam said as a big smile overtook his face, obviously pleased with his own genius. “Harry, are you good with your hands?”

“Really good,” Harry heard Louis mutter under his breath. 

His tone was mischievous as he caught Harry’s eye. Harry smiled and dropped his gaze, a flush rising in his cheeks as Liam avoided his eyes. 

“I would but I don’t have, like, my gear or anything,” Harry said. “Didn’t bring my boots, don’t have any gloves, nothing.”

“Ah, well, you’re in luck,” Louis chirped as he dug deep inside the very worn bag lying at his feet. “Byproduct of playing footie for twenty-something years and also having slight hoarding tendencies. And overspending tendencies. Lots of undesirable tendencies, really.” 

He pulled out a pair of socks and shin guards along with an old pair of goalkeeping gloves. 

“Can’t promise that the socks are clean and I’m pretty sure my spare boots won't fit you, but this should work as a sufficient amateur starter pack. You can just play in your tennis shoes.”

Harry grinned as he took the dirty socks and gloves from Louis.

“Ever played before?” Louis asked.

“You’re joking, right?” 

Harry sat down on the grass and slid the socks on, stuffing the shin guards down the front before pulling his tennis shoes back onto his feet. 

“I play all the time. I just said I wasn’t very good at it. There’s a difference.”

“Ah, got it,” Louis winked at Harry. 

Louis reached back down into his bag and pulled out a roll of athletic tape. He plopped down onto the grass and ripped off a long segment, working quickly to wrap his still slightly swollen ankle. Harry could see the remnants of a blue and purple bruise stretching from the ankle over the top of his foot.

"That doesn't look ready to be played on," he said as he frowned down at Louis. 

Louis looked up at Harry as he wrapped one last loop around his foot before pulling his sock on over it.

"Just a bit sore but it'll be fine," he said happily. "I’ve played on worse injuries than this plenty of times."

Harry stood up and pulled the gloves over his hands, tightening the straps around his wrists. 

“Guess I should probably, like, warm up or something,” Harry said. 

He looked toward Louis and pulled his arm across his chest, stretching his triceps. 

“Got a ball?”

Louis reached down into his bag and pulled out a neon yellow ball, tossing it at Harry’s head. Harry was distracted stretching his arms and the ball hit him directly in the forehead before bouncing off wildly to the left. 

Louis raised an eyebrow as he watched it roll away on the grass.

“Well, we’re not off to a promising start,” Louis said, “but I’m sure you’ll be good as gold after a little warm up.” 

His words were reassuring but his voice did not convey confidence.

Harry tripped and nearly fell while making his way onto the pitch. Excellent.

 

******

 

Overall, the game went pretty well. Better than Harry had been expecting, to be honest. He had made a couple of fairly good saves, both of which had earned big, bright smiles from Louis who had clapped enthusiastically and shouted praise at him from his spot up the pitch. 

It made it all the more evident to Harry just how much he loved pleasing Louis. Last night in the bedroom, this morning in the shower, right now in this game. Something about Louis just made Harry want to _do better_. 

Louis was a ball of energy on the field. It was obvious that he was a natural born leader as he spent the entire game encouraging his teammates and driving communication between the players. It was evident to Harry almost immediately as to why they had elected him captain. Each person on the pitch looked to him for guidance before anyone else. 

He was vibrant and bright and Harry was pretty sure that he hadn’t stopped moving since the match started. He didn’t understand how someone who never officially exercised and ate like a garbage disposal could spend ninety solid minutes jogging and sprinting so easily. 

Just one more thing to add to the growing list of ways that Louis amazed Harry.

Harry was snapped out of his thoughts when a particularly hard shot came at him from just outside the penalty box. He was only just able to get his hands up in front of his face to keep it from smashing into his nose. The ball deflected back into play as the opposing team crashed the box and his defenders attempted to clear it. Harry couldn’t see much of what was happening as he scrambled back and forth to follow the ball and hoped that he would be in the right place if someone got another shot off. 

He saw it pop out to his left just out of his reach. He dove for it right as one of his teammates kicked it away, the attempted clearance landing directly at the feet of one of the opposing team’s strikers. Harry popped up from the ground and scrambled back across the goal, attempting to get in front of the shot. Luckily, it was wildly off-frame and the man sent it flying into the woods behind the pitch. 

Harry stood on the goal line with his hands on his knees and chest heaving, exhausted and in pain. Despite working out regularly and running daily, this type of exercise was taking a toll on him. The stopping and starting, the diving… his entire body ached. He felt his calf cramping up as he dropped onto the grass, massaging it and wincing in pain as one of his teammates chased the stray ball into the woods.

“What’s wrong, Styles?” 

He heard Louis’ voice ring out across the space between them, his smirk obvious to Harry without him even needing to see it. He didn’t look up or answer as he continued rubbing his calf muscle, attempting to work the cramp out.

“Got a bit of a cramp, do you?” Louis teased. “You know, I’ve heard bananas help with that!” 

He cackled and jogged up the field as Harry hobbled to his feet and flipped his middle finger toward his back. Little shit.

All in all, Harry spent half his time in the goal just staring at Louis. He couldn't help himself; Louis was mesmerizing on the pitch. His body was so delicate and controlled, his movements so purposeful and practiced. It was evident that he had been playing for years. 

Their sweeper sent a long ball up the sideline and Louis sprinted to catch up to it, taking advantage of the space in front of him. Harry's heart pounded as he watched him advance on the goal. One of the opposing team's defenders appeared right at the last moment, coming in from behind with a slide tackle that knocked Louis' feet out from under him and sent him flying. 

Harry roared from his goal as the whistle blew and his teammates converged on the referee to argue for a penalty shot. Louis was lying on the ground clutching his ankle with both hands. No one was helping him.

"Liam!" Harry waved frantically, trying to get Liam’s attention where he stood arguing with the referee. "Liiiiaaam!" 

Harry gestured toward where Louis still lay motionless on the ground behind where Liam stood. Liam turned and dropped to one knee as Louis sat up, his hands massaging his ankle and his face pained. Harry wanted to go to him. 

The referee pulled out a yellow card and held it up at the defender who had made the bad tackle. Louis stood to his feet and wrapped one arm around Liam's shoulders, limping toward the sideline. He looked back toward Harry as he moved, shooting him a quick thumbs up and a big, easy smile. 

Harry wanted to kick that guy in the teeth.

 

******  
7.5

THE GAME  
Saturday, May 9, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

"What are you two up to tonight?" Harry asked as they walked off the pitch toward their bags. Louis was hobbling slightly and favoring his sore ankle. "Got any plans?"

"Don’t believe so," Liam said, glancing toward Louis. "How about you?"

"Nope," Louis said. 

He plopped down on the grass and pulled his boots off gingerly, tossing them to the side and lying flat on the grass. He pulled his knees to his chest to stretch his sore legs, noticing Harry not-so-subtly staring at his bum from beside him. 

He pulled his knees up higher and winked. Enjoy. 

"Was just just going to watch some telly, maybe order some Domino’s. Why?"

"It's open mic night at Ed's," Harry said as he tossed the borrowed gloves and socks on top of Louis' face. Louis gagged dramatically and rolled over, chucking the sweaty socks onto the grass beside him. "You should come."

"Sounds fun! Are you guys performing?" Liam asked.

"Yeah, probably," Harry pulled his shoes back on and laced them up beside Louis. "We try to take every opportunity to play in front of people. It’s a bit different than just playing to each other in Zayn's attic."

"Yeah but that place is so cool!" Liam said enthusiastically. 

Louis watched as his eyebrows shot up and his face turned blood red. Liam dropped his gaze to the pitch before pushing himself off the grass and dusting off his shorts. 

Louis caught Harry's eye. Harry seemed equally surprised.

"Hey… Li?" Louis' asked innocently, "When did you see Zayn's attic?" 

He could see Harry trying to stifle a giggle beside him as Liam blushed and picked his bag up hastily.

"Oh, uhh, went over there, like, last night after the play. It was no big deal really—" 

Liam started walking backward toward the parking lot, leaving Louis and Harry smirking at him from their spots on the grass. 

"—we just hung out a bit, talked, watched a movie. Well, I'll see you guys later, see you at home Louis—"

He turned and started walking briskly toward his car.

"Oh my God, did you two _do it_!?” Louis shouted. 

Liam scurried toward his vehicle in an attempt to escape Louis' embarrassing shouts. 

"Liam Payne, you answer me right this instant! Did you deflower that young man!?" 

Harry had his head thrown back and was cackling loudly as he clutched his stomach beside Louis. They watched as Liam tossed his bag into the car and all but dove in after it, slamming the door quickly behind him. 

"Kids these days," Louis shook his head disapprovingly. 

He looked over to where Harry was rolling around in the grass, still laughing.

"Oh my God," Harry wheezed, "he was so embarrassed. That was gold." 

He doubled over as another fit of giggles overtook him, Louis watching amusedly as he cracked up.

"It really wasn’t that funny," Louis said, grinning and secretly very pleased with himself. "Hanging out with you is a real ego stroke. You laugh so easily."

"Just at you," Harry said as his laughter died down. "You really _are_ that funny. Hilarious, actually." 

Louis blushed as he pulled his vans onto his sweaty feet and rose from his spot in the dirt. 

"You didn't know they'd hung out?" Harry asked.

He stood and brushed his shorts off before falling into step beside Louis on their way to the parking lot. 

"Nope, he didn't tell me." 

He felt a slight pang of sadness at the words. There was a time not that long ago when Liam told Louis everything. And he definitely would have told him that.

"Zayn didn't mention it, either," Harry said thoughtfully. 

Louis thought he might have heard some sadness there, too.

"They totally fucked,” Louis said.

“Totally.”

Harry smirked as he climbed into the passenger side, pulling on his seatbelt as Louis started the car. 

"I'll drop you by your flat so that you can shower and get ready and stuff," Louis said, reversing out of the parking space. "I smell like shit. We can just meet at Ed's?"

"Sounds good. Wonder if I have time to squeeze in a run before I shower," Harry murmured to himself.

"Go for a run? But you just played footie!"

"Well, it's not like I got much cardio in back there in the goal," Harry countered as he adjusted the bandana in his curls. "Although my bum is pretty sore. That might not be from the footie, though." 

Louis smirked as Harry giggled from the passenger seat. 

"Why, do you want to come?" Harry asked.

"Are you mad? I would rather stick my entire arm in a trash compactor." 

"You just ran for, like, an hour and a half straight," Harry argued. "How is that any different?"

"It's completely different. You're running with a purpose when you're playing. There is a goal. There is a point to it. You're not just out running the streets like a lunatic,” Louis said as he took a wild turn onto the highway, throwing Harry violently into the passenger side door. “Whoops, sorry about that.”

Louis attempted to merge onto the highway, honking as he cut off a passing car.

"You are truly a liability on wheels," Harry said as he rubbed his shoulder. 

Louis looked over and grinned at him. He was disheveled from the game. His hair was messy, his cheeks were pink, his eyes were bright. He was beautiful. He reached his arm out to ruffle Harry’s hair.

"Eyes on the road!" Harry shouted as he pushed Louis' hand out of his curls and forced it back onto the steering wheel.

"You love it.”

He watched a small smile playing at the corner of Harry's lips as he let his head fall back against the headrest, grinning lazily at Louis from his seat. 

"No comment."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice!


	8. The Ex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis gets angry. Harry revisits his past.
> 
> They both leave it behind them.

******  
8.1

THE EX  
Saturday, May 9, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

“Shots! Let’s take shots!” 

Niall flagged down Ed and ordered five shots of something very potent and very, very dark. Louis grimaced as he sat the small glasses in front of them. It looked like motor oil.

“What is that?” Liam asked.

He sounded equal parts terrified and excited as he picked his up and took a whiff. He never had been a big drinker.

“Jameson,” Niall said as he lifted his shot glass up and held it into the air for a toast. “Best not to smell it first, mate.” 

Louis picked two up and handed one back to Harry over his shoulder. Harry took it in one hand and dropped his other into Louis’ back pocket, squeezing and pinching his arse playfully. Louis giggled as Niall spoke. His words were very kind but very slurred.

“To… new friends! New _awesome_ friends! And… to not fucking up our song tonight! And—” 

Niall trailed off as he tried to think of something else to toast to. 

“—And I can’t think of anything else to toast. Unbelievable. To Ireland!” 

“Here, here!” Liam said loudly. 

He was already drunk. Louis laughed as he raised his glass to toast with the others, nuzzling his cheek into Harry’s arm where it lay draped over his shoulder.

“Here, here!” Harry said happily into Louis’ ear. “I don’t know about Niall, but personally I have plenty to toast to…” 

Louis smirked and brought the glass to his mouth. It smelled like floor polish.

“…starting with this arse,” Harry finished.

He squeezed Louis hard on the cheek, causing him to choke and sputter as he swallowed. Harry laughed loudly behind him.

“Jesus Christ, Niall,” Louis said as he reached for his beer on the bar, chasing the shot with a big sip. “That is fucking disgusting.”

“Pretty awful,” Harry agreed. 

His hand was still in Louis’ back pocket. Louis sunk backward into the curve of Harry’s chest and felt him nuzzle his nose into the back of his hair. This felt right. Normal. Hard to believe it had only been a month since he’d found out that Harry even existed.

“Where did Liam go?” Louis scanned the area, realizing suddenly that he was no longer with the group.

“Think he might’ve snuck off to the bathroom,” Zayn said.

He was sipping on a pink, fruity drink with an umbrella. Louis was probably never going to be over the fact that badass drummer and artsy-fartsy Zayn, with the tattoos and the dark, mysterious persona, preferred a Sex on the Beach to drink.

“Shit,” Louis muttered. “He’s probably puking. Never has handled dark liquor too well. I’ve dragged him off my fair share of toilets over the years.” 

Louis sat his beer down on the bar and peeled his back off of Harry’s chest. 

“I’d better go check on him.” 

“Mind if I join?” Zayn asked.

“You sure?” 

Louis raised one eyebrow skeptically as Zayn sat his pink drink on the bar and rose from his stool. 

“It might be a bit of a scene in there,” Louis warned. “Liam’s not exactly _dainty_ when he’s ill. Bit of a drama queen.”

“I’m sure,” Zayn nodded. “I just want to make sure he’s alright.”

Louis smiled at him. It was nice… seeing him care about Liam. Louis very much approved.

“Be right back,” he chirped to Harry as he leaned up to place a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Got to go check on Li.” 

Harry’s smile was fond as Louis turned his back to him and headed toward the loo. He felt Harry’s hand smack his ass hard. A loud, unmistakable cackle rose above the noise of the pub.

“Whoa, whoa! Calm down, Curly!” Louis said dramatically as he walked backward next to Zayn, smirking back to where Harry stood leaned against the bar. “Plenty of time for that later!” 

He winked before turning ahead and pushing his way into the dingy restroom.

“Liam?” Zayn called out tentatively as the door shut behind them. “You in here?”

Louis saw an unmistakable pair of boots peeking out from underneath the furthest stall. Not a good sign. 

He walked over and rapped his knuckles softly on the door. A low moan emanated from the other side.

“Li?” Louis said quietly. No response. “Hey, Payno, let me in, will you?”

“Poisonnnnnn,” a slurred voice said from behind the door. Louis heard half-hearted spitting into the toilet. “Niall poisoned me.”

“No, ‘fraid not, mate,” Louis said happily. “Just your standard shot of whiskey, nothing poisonous about it.” 

Sounds of retching rang out from inside the stall. Louis sighed and leaned his back to the door, waiting for Liam to finish so he could drag him out and throw him in the car to haul him home. 

“I could, like, stay with him or whatever,” Zayn said, waving his arm in the general direction of the toilet. Liam retched again. “I’ll take him home when he’s done.”

“You don’t have to do that." 

Louis winced as a particularly violent bout of sickness overcame Liam. 

“Honestly, Liam, you had four beers and two shots," Louis called out over the noise. "Get it together, mate." 

He turned back toward Zayn and eyed him skeptically.

“I don’t mind, really,” Zayn shrugged.

He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Louis still wasn’t used to being able to smoke anywhere he wanted inside this pub, but he was into it. 

“Seriously, go out and chill with Harry and Niall. Tell them I won’t be playing tonight. Not really in the mood, anyway.” 

Zayn leaned his back to the wall and slid down until he was seated cross-legged on the floor across from the stall. 

“You’re absolutely sure,” Louis asked again. 

Liam moaned dramatically from behind the door. Something about dying. Louis ignored it.

“Promise,” Zayn said lazily as he took a long, slow drag of his cigarette. “I’ll take him back to my place since it’s only, like, two blocks away. He can just crash there.” 

Zayn avoided Louis’ gaze as he spoke.

“That’s really nice,” Louis said with a smile. “Thank you. I know Liam appreciates it.” 

He knocked twice on the bathroom door, calling out to Liam on the other side. 

“Hey Li… Zayn’s out here… he’s gonna sit with you and make sure you don’t drown yourself in the toilet. Text me if you need anything.” 

He walked toward the exit before turning to look back at Zayn one last time, still seated on the disgusting floor and seemingly unconcerned about both the filth surrounding him and the vomiting man just a few feet away. 

“Thanks again,” Louis said, pulling on the door handle and walking out.

He found Harry and Niall seated at the bar talking animatedly to Ed when he got back. He slid a hand onto Harry’s hip from behind as he approached. Harry’s face broke into a large, bright smile when he saw him.

“Hey, you,” he grinned. 

His words were slow and his smile was easy. He was obviously buzzed and very adorable. 

“Is Liam alright?”

“Oh yeah, he’s fine,” Louis said. He reached for his beer where he had left it next to Harry’s. “Just sick and blaming Niall for poisoning him, begging for death, the usual.” 

He took a swig as Harry giggled next to him.

“I feel terrible,” Niall said. “Should I go apologize? I’ve never met someone who couldn’t handle a single shot before. Must be the Irish in me.”

Niall puffed out his chest and pounded it twice with his fist. 

“Nah, leave him be,” Louis said. “You don't wanna go in there. He’s fine, Zayn’s with him. Not your fault. Although I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news… Zayn won’t be playing with you guys tonight. He’s gonna make sure Li gets home safe.” 

Louis caught Harry’s eye and smirked. Harry raised both eyebrows in understanding.

“Ah, too bad,” Niall said good-naturedly as he waved down Ed for another beer. “We’ll just have to do an acoustic cover of something. Guitars only.”

“I've been thinking, actually... maybe I could do a solo song first?” 

Louis turned to see Harry biting his lip nervously, his eyes fixated on his beer. 

“I had a song in mind already,” Harry mumbled.

“Yeah man, of course, just let me know when you want me to come on,” Niall said as he clapped a hand to Harry’s back. “Where’d this come from?”

“Dunno,” Harry shrugged.

Louis watched as Harry downed the rest of his beer and gestured toward Ed to refill his glass. 

“I just really loved being up there the other week,” Harry took the fresh beer from Ed. “It got me thinking that it might be good for, like, my stage confidence or whatever to do it a couple of times by myself. I still get pretty nervous before we go on.” 

"Good idea," Niall nodded enthusiastically. "Harry used to make himself sick with nerves before every gig, didn't you?"

"Fucking hated it," Harry frowned. "It's better now, though. Still not great, but better."

Louis’ chest swelled with affection as he realized how anxious Harry was to be on stage alone. His first solo performance. Louis was really proud of him. 

“Good for you, Haz,” Louis said as he laced his fingers between Harry’s and squeezed reassuringly. “I’ve never had the courage to go it alone. Brave, that is.”

Harry smiled softly at Louis and squeezed back.

“I didn’t know you, like, performed,” Niall said to Louis from over his shoulder. “Harry said you work in music but not that you played or anything.”

“I don’t,” Louis said. 

He felt that sad, nostalgic feeling creeping into his gut. 

“Not anymore, anyway. I did a long time ago. A real long time.” 

He took a sip of his beer as Ed's voice rang out over the speakers, announcing the start of open mic night. A few people were signed up before Harry and Niall, so Louis settled in at the bar tucked comfortably into Harry’s side. They watched as the first group attempted to get organized on stage. He felt Harry’s hand creep to his inner thigh and squeeze.

“Don’t think I forgot about that cheeky slap to my arse earlier,” Louis murmured into Harry’s ear. 

Harry smiled devilishly, his dimple on full display. 

“You loved it,” he grinned.

Harry removed his hand from Louis’ thigh to rest it on the bar behind his back. His fingers traced gentle circles onto Louis’ scalp as he worked his hand lazily through his hair.

“No comment."

 

******

 

Harry appeared on stage alone with nothing but his guitar and a wooden stool. Scattered applause greeted him as he sat the stool down by the microphone and adjusted the stand to the correct height.

"Hello," he grinned as he sat down. He offered a big, dimpled smile and small wave to the crowd. "I'm Harry Styles." 

More scattered applause. Louis stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled obscenely loud, doing his best to be equal amounts supportive and embarrassing. It was a delicate balance, really.

"Thank you," Harry grinned pointedly in Louis' direction. "Thank you, thanks, everyone. Uhh, I play here sometimes with my friends, one of them is gonna come on in a minute…" 

Harry rambled. His words were slow and Louis was hopelessly endeared as he watched him talk under the single spotlight on stage. 

"We call ourselves Black Orchid. There’s actually three of us but the other is… well, incapacitated, at the moment. So anyway, until my friend comes out, it'll just be me. Harry. I'm from Cheshire and I love music. I used to be a baker, actually..." Harry said randomly, trailing off without offering further explanation. 

Louis barked out a loud laugh and clapped one hand to his mouth. Harry glanced toward him, clearly aware of who had made the noise. Whoops.

"Anyway," Harry continued, "this is one of my all-time favorite songs, and it's been stuck in my head all day. Since I woke up this morning, actually." 

Harry glanced toward Louis and smirked.

"Here goes nothing." 

He strummed at his guitar playfully before picking out the opening chords to a song that Louis didn't recognize. Harry's long hair tumbled forward into his face over the top of his headscarf as he looked down at his instrument. It was getting long… too long for a quiff like the one he had sported the first day that they had met. Louis loved it. Wanted to pull it. 

The stage light cast shadows across Harry’s cheeks. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he tapped his foot against his stool to the rhythm of the song. 

I watched you sleeping quietly in my bed  
You don’t know this now but there's some things that need to be said  
And it's all that I can hear  
And it's more than I can bear

What if I fall and hurt myself, would you know how to fix me?  
What if I went and lost myself, would you know where to find me?  
If I forgot who I am, would you please remind me? Oh  
'cause without you things go hazy

He sang slowly. The entire song was just a repeat of those same verses over and over again. The lyrics were beautiful. Harry looked up and met Louis' eyes, not breaking their gaze for nearly an entire verse. Louis' chest felt impossibly full. 

Harry was just so special. So different. 

He watched him up there on stage, seated alone on an old wooden stool and singing his heart out, so happy and confident and so much of everything. Like he was born to be up there. 

He thought back to the previous night when Harry had been forceful and commanding. His strong arms and back had supported Louis' entire weight as he had carried him down the hallway toward his bedroom, then had immediately turned pliant and obedient under Louis' touch, then had woken up and taken control again this morning in the shower. He was so many things.

It felt like so much had happened between them in the last twenty-four hours, but somehow sitting here in this dingy pub again, watching Harry on stage again… it felt like things had come full circle to that first time that he had sat here nearly a month ago. Harry had showed up into his life out of nowhere and taken him completely by surprise. 

Louis was thankful for that.

If I forgot who I am, would you please remind me? Oh  
‘cause without you things go hazy

Harry strummed the final cords and finished the song as a loud round of applause broke out throughout the pub. Louis watched as he stood from his stool and brought his hands together in front of his chest, taking a small bow and thanking the clapping audience. 

He looked at Louis and winked before turning to walk off stage to retrieve Niall. Cheeky little shit.

Niall and Harry were back onstage within three minutes. The two men broke out an upbeat cover of a Paramore song that Louis recognized from the radio. Niall was on background vocals as Harry took the lead, a ball of energy at the front of the stage, microphone in hand. He was so bright as he bounced around and danced horribly. Idiot.

The arrangement was very different from the original song and despite not having any drums, it managed to keep the energy upbeat. Louis actually felt like this version did a better job than the original when it came to capturing the romantic nature of the lyrics. 

Louis made a mental note to tell Harry that. He wondered if Harry had written the chords for this. He made a mental note to ask him that, too.

He smiled up at Harry as he made his way over to the nearest side of the stage. Harry grinned and shimmied his shoulders playfully, keeping his eyes on Louis as he walked away, shaking his tiny little ass as he went. 

Louis giggled into his fist as he watched. Jesus… even when he was being dumb, he was still hot as fuck.

I should be over all the butterflies, but I'm into you  
And baby even on our worst nights, I'm into you  
Let 'em wonder how we got this far  
'cause I don't really need to wonder at all  
Yeah, after all this time, I'm still into you

Harry hopped on one foot like a lunatic. One hand pointed into the air wildly, his movements completely unorganized and looking very much like an embarrassing dad dancing at a neighborhood barbecue. Louis was hopelessly endeared. 

Harry looked his way and locked eyes on Louis as he slapped his ass cheek, prompting a loud round of shouting and laughter from the crowd. Louis dropped his hands to the hemline of his t-shirt and pulled it up and over his chest to flash Harry. He stuck his tongue out and wiggled it toward his exposed nipple. 

Harry busted out laughing in the middle of the line, unable to finish the verse before turning fully away from Louis and composing himself. Success.

They took one final wave and bow before hopping off stage and walking over to where Louis sat grinning. Some people further down the bar waved Niall over to buy him a round of shots. Niall bounced off happily in their direction. He really was a social butterfly. 

Louis handed Harry the beer that he'd ordered him as he arrived back at the bar and sank into the stool beside Louis. His hair was wild and sweaty, spilling over the fabric that was struggling to hold it out of his eyes.

"Well, well, well," Harry said happily. "If it isn't the little flasher from the front row.”

"Thought you might enjoy that," Louis beamed as he wiggled his eyebrows playfully. "You guys sounded great! Did you write the arrangement for that Paramore song, too?"

"Yeah," Harry grinned as he took a sip of his beer. "Thanks for this, by the way." 

"No worries." 

Louis reached over to tug on an extra springy curl by Harry's cheek. 

"I actually preferred your version to the original, to be honest. Love the song but yours was great. Your first song was great, too. You didn’t look nervous at all. I don't know that song, though. Loved it anyway."

Harry blushed a bit as he took another sip of his beer. 

"One of my favorites," he said. "By Rosi Golan... it's called 'Hazy.' Beautiful song. And I most definitely _was_ nervous."

"It didn't show," Louis said, reaching down to squeeze Harry's hand. "You are so good on stage. Made for it.” 

"I love being up there. It feels right." 

Harry trailed off as his eyes wandered away from Louis' face and locked onto something across the bar. His brow furrowed. 

“Shit," he muttered, his face remaining troubled as he took a sip of his beer.

"What is it?"

Louis followed Harry's gaze and tried to identify the source of his distress, but saw nothing of interest as he scanned the crowd.

"Nothing, it’s no big deal," Harry straightened up on his barstool and turned to order another beer from Ed. "Just someone I haven't seen in a while, is all. Don't particularly care to see them, either."

Louis was about to turn back toward Harry and ask for more details when he saw the door to the loo open and Zayn appear with a rather pathetic looking Liam in tow. Louis had figured that they would be long gone by now.

"Shit," he mumbled.

He watched Zayn struggle to lead Liam through the crowd toward the doors. Liam looked asleep on his feet.

"What?" Harry asked, turning and looking in the direction of the loo. 

"Oh, nothing, just Zayn trying to haul Liam's deadweight out of here despite being half his size." 

Louis sat his beer down on the bar and leaned in to give Harry a quick kiss on the cheek. 

"Let me help him get Li out to the car,” Louis said. “I'll be back. Order me another?" 

He shook his empty bottle at Harry as he walked away smirking. Harry smiled and nodded, pinching his ass cheek as he walked away. Harry loved Louis’ ass. That much was clear.

Louis weaved his way over to where Zayn was attempting to coax Liam up the steps toward the entrance of the pub. 

"I figured you'd be gone by now." 

Louis slipped one arm under Liam's opposite shoulder and helped Zayn lift him up the stairs. 

"Yeah, well, Liam here had himself a bit of a nap on the floor of the loo," Zayn grunted. 

They got Liam's feet onto the top step where he was able to support more of his own weight before heading toward the exit. 

"I've never seen someone so large struggle with such a small amount of alcohol,” Zayn panted. “It's almost impressive. _Almost_."

"Yeah, Li usually sticks to beer," Louis said. The two men led Liam through the doors and out onto the sidewalk. "And when I say 'sticks to beer' I actually mean, like, sticks to one beer. Not a big drinker. Holy shit… is this your car? _Sick_." 

He watched as Zayn unlocked the passenger side of his Range Rover and opened the door. Louis attempted to boost Liam's useless body up and into the vehicle as he grunted and offered no assistance. They got him situated in the front seat as Louis stepped back and swept his now sweaty fringe out of his eyes.

"Thanks," Zayn said as he reached across Liam to fasten the seatbelt. They watched as his head dropped back against the headrest, eyes already shut. "Hopefully he doesn't puke in it."

"He seems to be more interested in sleeping than puking at the moment," Louis said, shutting the door gently and turning to face Zayn. "Thanks again for looking after him. He's really not normally like this." 

Louis shot Liam a sideways glance through the car window. 

"It's cool, we've all been there," Zayn said as he walked around the front of the car. "Plus, I like him." 

He shrugged as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Louis felt a surge of affection for Zayn as he watched him unlock his own door, completely unbothered by Liam’s drooling face smashed against the glass.

"Yeah, I can see that." 

He stood on the sidewalk as Zayn opened his door and climbed in, waving at Louis happily as he started the car. Louis turned to walk back into the pub as Zayn pulled away from the curb, Liam dead asleep in the front seat with his face unattractively pressed against the window. 

Louis couldn’t resist pulling out his phone and snapping a quick picture as they drove off.

He walked back into the dark pub. The late-night patrons had arrived by now and were packing in densely around the bar. Louis pulled his phone out and shot a quick text to Liam before attempting to navigate through the mob of people toward where he'd left Harry.

 **11:48pm:**  
you owe zayn breakfast or a blowjob when you wake up. probably both actually

He attached the photo he’d just taken before hitting Send and sliding his phone back into his pocket.

He'd made it about halfway across the pub when he spotted Harry by the bar talking to a large, attractive man in his late twenties. Very attractive, actually. Brown hair and tanned skin and taller than Harry with muscles and shiny white teeth and fancy clothes. 

Despite the general attractiveness of this person, something about his demeanor gave Louis a bad feeling as he watched their interaction from where he stood stuck in the crowd. Harry's brow was creased and his chest was turned sideways, his body language totally closed off to the man and his stance visibly uncomfortable. 

Despite Harry's obvious discomfort, the man leaned in close to speak right up against his ear. Louis watched as Harry offered up a strained, fake smile and took a sip from his beer before turning his back completely and attempting to signal at Ed. The man pressed up against him from behind and slid his hand into the back pocket of Harry's jeans. 

Oh, hell no.

Louis took off toward the two of them, pushing people out of the way as he attempted to make his way through the crowd. He watched as Harry reached back and forcefully removed the hand from his pocket, speaking angrily and pointing toward the exit.

Fucking people everywhere. 

Louis spilled a girl’s beer as he tried to pass by her, offering a half-assed apology as he pushed ahead. He could see Harry gesturing animatedly with his hands. His posture was taut and his overall body language was uncomfortable. This guy was obviously not getting the message as he leaned closer and reached around Harry’s body to grab a handful of his ass, attempting to forcefully pull him into a kiss. 

Louis saw red. 

He began shoving people out of the way as he forced himself through the packed pub to get to where Harry stood pressed against the bar. No one touched Harry like that without Harry's permission. No one.

Harry had both of his hands in front of his body as he pushed the man off and turned his face to avoid his advances. Louis was able to pick up on Harry's raised voice the closer he got. He finally busted through the wall of people and took two large, fast steps toward Harry, tucking himself up against Harry's side just as he succeeded in pushing the man off.

Louis could smell him. He reeked of liquor and cigarettes. 

"Hey, love," Louis said pointedly. 

He leaned up on his tippy toes and placed a kiss to Harry's cheek. He slid his arm around Harry's waist and dropped his hand into the same back pocket that the drunk man had violated earlier. That should send a message. 

"Everything alright? Who's your friend?" 

Louis pasted on his largest, fakest smile when he looked up to meet the muscled man's eyes.

"Uhh, Louis, this is Aiden,” Harry said. His voice was hesitant as he looked down at Louis, confusion written across his face. "He was just leaving, actually."

"You’ve got to be fucking kidding me," Aiden said, his fixed on Louis' hand around Harry's waist. "This? This is what you left me for?”

Ouch. Louis shifted closer to Harry and felt him wrap a protective arm around his shoulders, squeezing gently. 

"Standing right here, mate," Louis chirped. 

"Does it look like I give a shit?” Aiden growled at Louis. His words were slurred and he seriously reeked. “I’m not gonna waste my time on some piece of Yorkshire trash in secondhand clothes and ratty old sneakers. Not worth my fucking time." 

Louis recoiled slightly but kept his gaze steady. He felt Harry's arm tighten around his shoulders as he stood up straighter beside him and took an aggressive step toward Aiden. Louis thought that maybe he was going to punch him. That would be wonderful.

"That might be true, mate, but I can always buy new shoes," Louis said somberly. "You, on the other hand, are stuck with your piece of shit personality for life. How _depressing_."

"It's time for you to go, Aiden," Harry grumbled from beside Louis, his voice low and threatening. Louis had never heard that tone before. "Now. Get the fuck out of here."

"You can't kick me out of a public pub," Aiden laughed. "Fuck off."

"I can't, but Ed can."p>

Harry waved Ed down and gestured toward the security standing by the front door. Ed walked off to retrieve the large man as Harry turned back to face Aiden. 

"I don't know what happened to you, Aiden. I feel bad for you. You weren't always like this."

Louis watched as security showed up beside Aiden and placed one hand firmly on his bicep.

"Time to leave, mate," the bouncer said. "Set your drink down and let's go."

"Fuck you, Harry," Aiden spit out as he was led away by security. "You always have been too stupid to know what's good for you. Get your fucking hands off of me." 

Louis and Harry stood and watched as he was pulled backward toward the door, trying to jerk his arm free and failing miserably. 

"I hope you find some peace," Harry said.

His voice was sad as he watched Aiden being pushed through the exit and out of the pub. He dropped his arm from Louis' shoulder and turned to face him, his brow creased and face pained. 

"Shit. I am so sorry, Lou."

"Why are you apologizing?" Louis asked as he took Harry's hands in his own. "It's not your fault that guy is a complete dickhead. What the fuck is wrong with him? Was he dropped on his head as a child?"

"Yeah, but, the touching and kissing and stuff," Harry trailed off as he dropped his gaze to the floor. Louis rubbed small circles into the skin on the backs of his hands. "I know you saw that. I'm so sorry. I understand if you're angry."

"Harry," Louis said firmly as he reached out to tip Harry's chin upward, forcing him to meet his gaze. "You never have to apologize to me for the actions of other people. Did you want him touching you?"

"No." 

"Right. That much was obvious to everyone but him, apparently. He touched you without your permission. That is not your fault. You don’t apologize for that." 

Louis leaned up and pressed a slow kiss to his lips. He squeezed his fingers around Harry's as he felt him reaching his arms up to wrap them around Louis' neck. Harry pulled him into his chest and placed a kiss into his hair. 

"Thank you," he murmured, gently rocking Louis in his arms. "I'm so sorry he insulted you, though." 

Louis sighed and rested his forehead on Harry's collarbone as they swayed back and forth, completely off beat to the loud rock music blasting through the pub.

"Eh, it's alright," Louis attempted nonchalance. He was pretty sure he failed. "I’ve heard worse. Plus, he's right, you know, these shoes have seen better days."

He looked down sadly at the worn Vans on his feet, scuffed up and faded from years of wear and tear.

"Heyyyy, I happen to like those shoes," Harry said, squeezing Louis' shoulders as he nuzzled his nose in the hair by Louis’ ear.

"So do I," Louis said softly. 

They stood in the middle of the crowded, dark pub wrapped around each other, slowly swaying back and forth as people danced and shouted and ordered shots around them. Despite the chaos, Louis felt relaxed. Despite the noise, things felt quiet. 

He felt Harry's steady heartbeat against his cheek. He squeezed his arms around Harry's middle before raising his face upward to place a quick kiss on the underside of his jaw.

"Is this your not-so-subtle way of telling me that you want to slow dance with me?" Harry asked.

Louis smirked up at Harry as their bodies continued to sway gently. 

"To... Ozzy?” Louis raised an eyebrow. “In the middle of a dingy pub reeking of cigarette smoke and smelling faintly like vomit which, I’m assuming, we can blame on Liam?"

"I would slow dance with you anywhere," Harry murmured quietly into his ear. 

Louis smiled as he let himself be rocked gently, breathing in the scent of Harry's cologne while Black Sabbath blared loudly through the speakers in the background. He was happy. 

 

******  
8.2

THE EX  
Saturday, May 9, 2015

HARRY  
******

 

"Where did you park?" Harry asked as he held the pub door open for Louis. 

He watched him scurry through the doorway and out onto the sidewalk beyond. He was a really adorable drunk.

"Ummmmmmmmmmmmmm," Louis giggled as he turned around to face Harry. The light from the streetlamps danced on his face. He was beautiful. "I dunno. Somewhere round here, I imagine. Can't be too far off."

"Would you like a ride home? You can't drive." 

Harry took two steps toward Louis and reached out with both hands to lace their fingers together. Louis drunkenly grinned up at him.

"Oh, Styles, I would love a ride," he said devilishly as he wiggled his eyebrows at Harry.

"Filthy," Harry scolded. He leaned down to press his lips to Louis'. "Absolutely filthy." 

He felt Louis' hand find the front of his pants, groping him playfully through the tight fabric of his jeans. Shit.

"I actually really don't remember where I parked, though," Louis murmured. Harry felt his lips curve into a smile against his mouth as he deepened their kiss. "Retched memory, I've got. A real shame." 

Louis grabbed Harry’s cock fully where it twitched against his thigh. 

Time to go.

Harry pulled back and clasped his hand around Louis', leading him toward his parked car a few spots up the street and swinging their hands between their bodies. Louis was happy and giggling as he leaned into Harry’s side, drunkenly slurring his words against his sleeve.

"Y'know," Louis said as his feet kicked at loose gravel on the sidewalk as they strolled along. "I quite like these shoes." 

Harry looked down to see Louis drop his gaze to his faded Vans before bringing his eyes up to Harry’s face. He looked sad. 

"Been through a lot, these shoes and me. Like old friends. Go waaaaay back." 

"Lou," Harry leaned down to twist his key in the handle of the passenger side door. He opened it and poured a very pliant Louis inside before squatting down beside him to watch up close as he fumbled adorably with the seatbelt. "I'm so sorry he picked on your shoes. I love those shoes." 

Harry frowned as Louis brought his hands together in his lap and fiddled at a hangnail on his thumb, avoiding his gaze.

"He's right, though, you know," Louis said quietly. "They are ratty. Old. Don't have much money. Yorkshire. My family always struggled a bit growing up. Don't have much money now, either. I always thought that I would, when I was grown and could make my own… that I’d have money, then. But I don’t." 

Harry felt a sharp pain in his chest as he took one of Louis' hands in his own. He reached up with the other to gently tuck Louis’ chin between his thumb and index finger, coaxing his face toward his. He placed a gentle kiss to Louis’ lips and tasted the sharp remnants of the ill-advised tequila shot that they'd taken right before calling it a night. He suddenly felt very sober. 

This was a new side of Louis that he hadn’t seen before. He had only ever seen Louis as outgoing and confident. Harry didn’t know what to do with the vulnerable man in front of him.

"I don’t have money, either. None of that matters to me, anyway," Harry said firmly. Louis opened his eyes and met Harry’s gaze. "None of that is important. What's important is that I've been happier this past month than I've been in a really long time. Honestly, Lou, you fucking _flashed_ me while I was on stage tonight. Who does that?" 

Louis giggled and squeezed Harry's hand. His chest lightened at the sight of his stupid, drunk smile.

"Aiden is an asshole and we should talk about that sometime...we definitely need to talk about that sometime… but we shouldn't have that talk now. And definitely not while we're drunk," Harry finished.

Louis nodded slowly and closed the gap between them. The kiss was slow and sloppy and perfect. 

"Sorry for having a little tantrum," he said sheepishly. "I'm blaming it on the tequila."

"You are allowed to get upset, Lou," Harry said as he placed a quick kiss to the tip of Louis' nose. "But you can blame the tequila, anyway."

He stood up and shut the door carefully. 

Fucking Aiden.

 

******

 

“Jesus Christ, your arse,” Harry groaned. 

He placed a hard smack to Louis’ bare cheek where it hovered in the air above his groin. Harry was flat on his back with his hands gripping Louis’ hips tight as Louis’ tongue roamed over his neck and chest, his naked body rolling rhythmically over the top of Harry’s boxers. 

“I think you’re an addict,” Louis teased as he nipped and bit at the sensitive skin around Harry’s nipples. "I'm diagnosing you."

He took them between his fingers and massaged gently. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“—Fuck fuck fuck—“ Harry babbled. The sensation overwhelmed him and shot straight to his throbbing cock. “Fuck, Lou—“ 

His brain finally caught up to Louis’ words as his hands pulled away from Harry’s nipples. Harry winced as he felt fingernails digging into his love handles while Louis sucked hard on the skin of his abs. 

“Addicted to what?”

“My arse,” Louis giggled. 

They both smelled like sweat and alcohol and cigarettes from the inside of the pub but fuck if Louis wasn’t gorgeous in the shadows of Harry’s bedroom.

“I absolutely am,” Harry said. “I need an intervention. An arservention. An interassion—fuckkkkk.” 

He felt Louis pull his boxers down with his teeth, his wet tongue licking up the underside of his cock before swallowing the head and pumping his hand lazily at the base. 

“No, no arserventions,” Louis slurred as he sloppily licked and sucked on Harry’s dick. “Love that you love my arse. Can’t wait for you to get your fucking monster hands on it, fuck. And your fucking mouth, your mouth is sinful…” 

He took Harry all the way down until the head of his cock hit the back of his throat, groaning and sending vibrations through his navel. Harry shuddered. He felt his orgasm building as Louis’ throat tensed around his cock, sucking hard. 

Harry’s eyes shot open as Louis’ words registered in his groggy, sex-addled brain. He reached down and grabbed Louis under the armpits, pulling him off his cock and up his body.

“Wha—“ Louis began to ask, confused as Harry dragged him up his chest. 

Harry didn’t let him finish before kissing him on the lips and silencing the word before rolling Louis over onto his back underneath him. He sucked and bit at Louis’ mouth as his hands roamed over his smooth body. One hand found Louis’ dick and began pumping rhythmically. 

“Fuck Haz—“ Louis choked out against Harry’s mouth.

His chest heaved as Harry dropped his lips to the deep divots of his collarbones and sucked. He grabbed Louis on either side of his ribcage and rolled him over onto his stomach. He went easily, allowing his body to be totally manhandled. Jesus.

Harry looked down at the curve of Louis’ arse where he lay flat against the bed, whining and grinding against the sheets. His skin was smooth and soft. Fuck.

Harry sat up and nudged one leg between the backs of Louis’ thighs, spreading his legs apart and settling his body in between them. He stared down as he palmed each cheek and dug his fingernails into the flesh, eliciting a gutteral moan from Louis where his face lay smashed against the pillow. 

Harry leaned down and bit at the meaty spot where Louis’ back met his cheek. Louis writhed underneath him on the bed. 

“Fuck,” Harry groaned as he stared down at Louis’ arse lying naked on the bed in front of him. He pumped his own aching cock with one hand as he watched Louis squirm. “Lou, tell me I can, please, I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do so tell me—“

“Do whatever the fuck you want,” Louis panted. “I don’t care—“ 

Harry grabbed Louis’ hips and jerked them up off the bed, forcing his knees to bend up and underneath his body so that his perfect arse sat suspended in the air. In the air and all for Harry. 

Harry groaned as he took one cheek in each hand and squeezed. He leaned in to bite the sensitive skin and blow his hot breath over Louis’ hole. Harry worked his way around the area, coming close but never touching, alternating between biting and licking and sucking the reddening skin. Louis was whining and moaning, all but begging Harry to do something more than tease. 

Harry sat up and reached across Louis' exposed body toward his end table. He pulled the drawer open and grabbed a container of lube, popping the cap open one-handedly and drizzling the warm substance over his fingers. 

He reached down and dragged them over Louis’ hole. He shuddered and whimpered under Harry’s touch.

Harry used his left hand to grip and knead the soft flesh of Louis’ cheek as he inserted one finger from his right. Louis panted and writhed on the bed as Harry dragged his finger in and out slowly, reaching around Louis’ hips to lazily fondle his cock where it lay dripping precome against his thigh. Not enough to finish him off but just enough to drive him crazy. 

Louis whined and leaned back into Harry’s hand, begging for more without using words. 

“You are gorgeous,” Harry murmured.

He dropped his face to Louis’ hole and began sucking and licking alongside where his finger worked. Louis cried out and bucked his hips as Harry’s tongue moved. He slid another finger in beside his first and scissored them around as he pumped.

“Fuck fuck fuck, please Haz, fuck, I need more please—” 

Louis’ voice was high and raspy and totally wrecked. Harry moaned as he felt precome leak from the tip of his own cock where it hung hard and neglected, begging for attention. He fought the urge to withdraw his other hand from Louis’ dick to touch his own, opting instead to smear Louis’ precome around on his tip, prompting a violent shudder from Louis.

Harry slipped his tongue in between the two fingers playing in his arse and licked. He crooked his middle finger and searched for Louis’ prostate, dying to hear what Louis’ high-pitched cries would sound like when he finally hit it. 

Louis panted and writhed against the bed, bucking his hips and attempting to get more friction where his dick lay clutched in Harry’s hand. Harry pushed his fingers as far into Louis as he could and stroked his walls while his tongue continued darting around wildly.

Louis’ body seized as he cried out incoherently and came hard into Harry’s hand. Bingo.

Harry felt hot streaks of come hit his palm and shoot onto the blanket beneath him as his tongue slid in and out of his hole. He stroked his fingers harder against Louis' spot and let him ride out his orgasm. 

His cries died down after a few seconds and Harry could feel his muscles relaxing beneath him. He still lay whimpering underneath Harry’s face. 

Harry pulled his mouth away and dropped his come-covered hand to his own throbbing cock. He let out a relieved, wrecked noise as he sunk his fingernails into Louis’ ass cheek and stroked himself three quick times. Louis’ come on his hand provided enough slickness to send him straight over the edge, shooting all over Louis’ exposed arse and up his back. 

Harry’s chest heaved as he stroked himself through it, his eyes remaining locked on the white come streaked across Louis’ skin. Marking him. 

He dropped his hands to the backs of Louis’ calves to support his weight as he came down from his high. He panted and dropped his head forward toward his chest, rolling it around in an attempt to loosen his sore neck muscles.

“Jesus Christ,” Louis said lazily from his spot on the pillow. His breathing was still labored but there was a smile on his face. “Your fucking mouth.”

Harry picked his head up to smirk at Louis while taking in the absolute mess in front of him.

“I’m going to get this image tattooed on my eyelids,” he murmured.

He dragged one hand through the come splattered across Louis and smeared it across his back before placing a quick, playful smack to his skin. Louis giggled underneath him.

“Shower?” Louis asked.

“I was thinking you could just sleep like that, actually."

He climbed out from behind Louis’ legs and took one last look at his arse where it still sat suspended in the air, spread eagle without a care in the world.

“Very funny,” Louis said as he gingerly climbed off the bed. “Ah, I can feel your come dripping down my crack. Lovely.”

Harry laughed and placed a quick, closed-mouth kiss to Louis’ shoulder.

 

******  
Sunday, May 10, 2015  
******

 

Harry woke first.

He could feel Louis’ chest rising and falling where his warm body was pressed against Harry’s side. Louis was curled up into him, looking even smaller than normal, with his face resting on the soft skin where Harry’s chest met his underarm. 

He reached down to lace his fingers through Louis’ where they lay draped against his waist, nuzzling his nose into Louis’ hair and placing a kiss to his forehead. 

Louis stirred.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Harry smiled as Louis lifted his head up and squinted into the sunlight. "How'd you sleep?"

Louis was obviously disoriented as he took in his surroundings. 

“Fuck, what did we drink last night?” 

He watched in amusement as Louis brought one hand to his forehead and dropped his face back against Harry's chest. 

“And why don’t you have curtains in here, you monster?”

“I prefer waking up to the sunlight instead of an alarm,” Harry said happily. Louis groaned. “Oooh, someone’s _clearly_ not a morning person.”

“Mornings are shit,” Louis grumbled. 

Harry placed a kiss onto the mess of hair at the top of his head before peeling himself out from under his body. 

“Gonna have a wee and start breakfast,” Harry said, stretching his arms above his head and cracking his back. “Full English alright?”

“Do you just have all the ingredients lying around to whip up a full English? Seriously?”

“…Yes?” 

“I’m pretty sure the only thing in my fridge at the moment is beer and an old jar of pickles,” Louis yawned. “My fucking head is pounding.”

He dropped his face into Harry’s pillow and pulled the covers up over his head. Harry smiled down at him. He was like an adorable little kitten in the mornings. An adorable, angry little kitten. Better not get too close.

“Come out whenever you’re ready.” 

He headed down the hallway toward the loo, leaving Louis curled up and cursing in the bed behind him.

 

******

 

Harry looked up from across the table to see Louis spooning a few pieces of pineapple out of the bowl and onto his plate. He dropped his gaze and attempted to hide his smile as he took a bite of his eggs.

“This breakfast is fucking incredible,” Louis mumbled through a mouth full of food. “You’re, like, a proper chef. Better than me mum’s, honestly. Don’t repeat that.”

“I actually did take some real cooking classes back in the day,” Harry said with a proud smile. “I used to be a baker.”

“You mentioned that last night at the pub. I meant to ask you about it. What did you bake?” 

He watched Louis bite messily into his slice of toast. Crumbs scattered all over the table. He was a disaster.

“Well, I didn’t so much _bake_ things at the bakery as I, like, cut bread and washed up and stuff,” Harry explained, biting into his banana. “Worked the register sometimes, too.”

“That doesn’t really sound like a baker. That just sounds, like, a guy who worked in a bakery.” 

“Hey! Working in a bakery makes you a baker by default,” Harry said indignantly. “See if I ever bake for you.” 

"Sorry, sorry,” Louis held his hands up in front of him in surrender. “You’re right, my apologies.” 

Harry grinned as Louis tossed a grape at his head from across the table. 

“So, tell me about Aiden," Louis said. Harry watched him scoop up some eggs on his bacon and take a large, messy bite. "You said last night that we should talk about that."

"Yeah, we probably should," Harry frowned down at his plate and pushed his food around aimlessly, his appetite suddenly gone. "Really sorry about last night. He wasn't always such a dickwad. Or, well, I don't know… maybe he was." 

"How long were you together?" 

Harry could see Louis' eyes peeking over the rim of his mug as he sipped his tea. He could tell that he was attempting to tamp down on his curiosity. Might as well get this over with.

"Over three years," Harry said.

"Wow." 

He saw Louis' eyebrows shoot up.

"Yeah, for a few years during Uni and then a little bit after,” Harry elaborated. “It became clear fairly quickly after graduation that it wasn't going anywhere. Or, actually, I guess maybe it _was_ going somewhere, but I finally figured out that I didn't particularly want to go where it was going."

"Mmmm." 

Louis bit into his pineapple causing juice to squirt out all over his face. Harry resisted the urge to laugh. Morning number two and Louis was already voluntarily eating fruit. Victory.

"I just mean that when we were together at Uni, I don't think I really noticed certain things quite as much as I did after we graduated," Harry said. His words were slower and more careful than usual. "You're, like, a different person once you're out of school, you know? And there were things about our relationship that I didn't care for while we were still in school, and those things only got worse after."

"Like what?" 

"He could be very controlling,” Harry sighed. “I thought it was kind of hot when we first started dating. Wanting to spend all his free time with me, wanting me to spend all my free time with him. I just thought that’s what two people in love do. But then it was like he wanted me to spend all my time with him and none of it with anyone else.” 

Harry paused to take a sip of his tea. 

“He made me feel bad about going on trips and stuff. I traveled all the time before I met him… I was always going hiking and camping, seeing beautiful places. That stopped,” Harry said dryly.

He watched as Louis kept his eyes focused on the steaming tea in front of him. Harry appreciated that.

“He hated my friends,” Harry continued. “He hated Zayn and Niall for no reason. He wasn't supportive, like, _ever_ when it came to my music. Said that it was a ‘waste of time’ and that playing open mic nights doesn't pay the bills, so I should focus on a 'proper' career.”

Harry thought back to the time that he had come home all excited to show Aiden his new guitar, and Aiden had told him that he was pissing his money away on a dream that would never come true. Or the time he had written Aiden a song for Valentine's Day, and he had told Harry he would have preferred chocolates. One particularly painful memory consisted of Harry choking on stage during a gig that they were playing in a student pub, and instead of being supportive, Aiden had laughed along with the rest of them.

He decided not to share those.

“So halfway through Uni I changed my major from music and went pre-law,” Harry said, leaning back in his chair and sighing. “I decided to go to law school after graduation. A sensible choice. Sometimes it feels like I let him decide the course of my life for me. It sucks." 

Harry took a deep breath as Louis sat silently across the table, his eyes fixed on Harry now.

"He ruined an entire Christmas with my family once because I didn't invite him. I mean, we were in Uni, you know? We weren't fucking married or anything. I just wasn't ready for shared holidays together or whatever. He called my cell the entire holiday, sent dozens of crazy text messages. Kept calling the house phone during Christmas dinner. Mum actually had to take it off the ringer. Missed a call from my nan. It was her last Christmas." 

Harry swirled his pinky finger around in the warm tea and avoided Louis' gaze. It had been a while since he'd talked about Aiden. He had forgotten how much he hated it. Hated him.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Louis said. "Rehash it all. I get it. It was a bad relationship. It's in the past, now."

"Yeah, it is, but if we're going to do… this," Harry gestured between the two of them before dropping his gaze back to his tea, "you should know about him. That relationship, it kind of shaped me into who I am today. What I want. How I think."

Louis nodded and sipped his drink. The steam rose in front of his face as he kept his eyes on Harry. He offered a reassuring smile that spurred him onward. 

"So, anyway, that was, like, toward the end of Uni or whatever," Harry continued. "After we graduated, shit got worse. He wanted us to move in together, but I was just really starting to question the entire relationship, so I said I wasn't ready. He would talk about the future like it was just a given that we were going to be together even though I was really unsure about everything. Do you need more tea?” 

Louis shook his head as Harry stood from the table and walked to the kettle. He refilled his mug and dropped some sugar and milk in before settling back into his chair.

“It was like the more I pulled away, the tighter he held on. I ended up leasing a flat alone and he just, like, showed up with his shit one day to move himself in,” Harry said, shaking his head. He still got angry thinking about that day. “After I’d already told him I didn’t want us to live together yet. He just came anyway! And when I told him I wasn't ready for that, he made it out like _I_ was the shitty person. Selfish. Never prioritizing him. So, I let him move in. I felt guilty." 

Harry picked up a grape and rolled it between his palms to give his hands something to do. 

"I just couldn't breathe, you know? It was just too much... it was all too much. I was working a job I didn't even really like because I had let him convince me that it was the right thing to do, I had pretty much stopped playing music and traveling, all my relationships were strained because seeing my friends or my family without him caused such a huge fucking ordeal that I kind of just... cut everyone off." 

Harry pushed the feelings of guilt and shame to the back of his mind. He had mended those bridges since then, but it still hurt to think about.

"I just felt isolated from everything, even though I was literally never alone. Aiden was always around. I had no peace."

"That can be a really lonely place," Louis said quietly. "Being in a relationship you don't want to be in, I mean."

Harry looked up and offered him small smile.

"Exactly," he nodded. "So things were bad. And then things... exploded."

Harry leaned back in his chair and remembered the night of Niall's graduation party. It had been at least two years since he'd talked about this, and he'd never talked to anyone about it other than those who had been there, too. 

Rock bottom.

"What happened?" 

"Uhh, well, I decided to throw a party for Niall the day he graduated Uni," Harry said slowly. "Probably mostly out of guilt, if I'm being honest. I had kind of stopped talking to him for a while. Because of fucking Aiden,” he growled.

“So anyway, I invited some people that I'd kind of lost touch with. Niall, Zayn, some other friends, my family. Looking back I think it might have been me finally reaching the end of my rope. I just felt so alone all the time, was so sick of it, I wanted those relationships back, you know?" 

Louis nodded at him from across the table. Harry took a sip of his tea.

"We got into a huge fight about me even throwing the party, but he gave in eventually. He wasn't happy about it, though. Anyway, things were going fine… I was having a great time, catching up with my friends. My mum and Gemma were there. It was the first time that they'd seen my flat, actually, even though I'd lived there a full year by then," Harry scowled. "Aiden hadn't been keen on them coming to visit." 

He tossed the grape onto his plate and pushed it away toward the center of the table. He didn't want food.

"And?" 

"And… well, Aiden ruined it," Harry said simply.

He looked up to meet Louis' eyes. 

"He ruined Niall's party, ruined the entire day, ruined everything. Got wasted. Got angry that I was spending time with everyone and having fun. Started shouting at me in front of everybody… it was fucking _mortifying_. I sat there and just took it, too, because that’s what I did back then. Just sat there and took his shit. It really felt like that was rock bottom. Until Niall stepped in to try to calm him down, and Aiden punched him."

"What!?" Louis said as he sat his mug down hard on the table. Harry watched as his brow creased in shock and anger. "He hit Niall?"

"Yup." 

Ah, just reliving what was probably the worst day of his life before noon on a Sunday. Felt good.

"Why!? But Niall is… he's so... who could hit Niall?"

"Exactly," Harry grumbled. "Punched him right in the face. It was crazy. Out of everyone he could have hit…" 

Harry trailed off. His hands trembled with anger at the memory even years later. 

"It's just... Niall is, like, the nicest person alive,” Harry said exasperatedly. “And he’s one of my oldest and closest friends. He’s like family to me, he was always there for me. Even when I cut everyone out, acted like a dick, he still stuck around. Still texted. Still called. And he would never hurt a fly. And the worst part was he didn't even _do_ anything, he just had the guts to tell Aiden to stop yelling at me…" 

Harry shook his head and looked back down at the table.

"Anyway, I fucking lost it. I saw red. Don't remember much what happened after that, it's kind of a blur. I just remember freaking the fuck out. Zayn and a few friends dragged Aiden out of the flat and locked him outside, and I proceeded to toss all his shit out the window into the parking lot. Clothes, his telly, his phone. It was all very 'Real Housewives. And it all happened in front of my family.'" 

Harry smirked humorlessly as he caught Louis' eye. 

"Needless to say, we broke up shortly after that."

"So when you said he wasn't _always_ an arse," Louis raised an eyebrow skeptically. His voice was gentle but his face was confused. "At what point wasn't he? Because from what you just said, it sounds like he was pretty awful the whole time."

"I mean, I guess it wasn't always bad. That's the trouble, isn’t it?” Harry mumbled. “Things don't go from zero to sixty overnight. In the beginning, things were good. I don’t even remember when I started noticing him changing, but I mean… things were still good sometimes, too, even when things were bad. So you look past the bad times. Until one day you wake up and look around and it’s all bad and you think 'how the fuck did I get here'?"

"I am so sorry," Louis said. 

Harry watched as he stood up and walked around the table, dropping into the chair beside him and scooting it close to his knees. He took both of Harry's hands in his own and began rubbing circles into the backs of his palms. Harry felt stupid. 

"You deserve so much better than that."

"I know that now," Harry mumbled. 

It was true. It had taken a few years of being alone and gaining some serious distance and perspective, but he truly did believe it now. 

"I didn't date anyone for a few years after that, though. Just wanted some time to be alone. Actually, you're the first person I've been involved with since then." 

Harry smiled down at Louis' thumbs where they moved soothingly against his skin. 

"I will never, never do that to you," Louis said. His voice was soft but firm. "I can't promise that I won't do annoying shit sometimes or that I won't unintentionally hurt your feelings or something at some point, but I can promise you that I will never do _that_ to you."

Harry felt Louis' arms reach up and wrap around his neck as he rested his head against his chest. He breathed in the scent of Louis' skin and nuzzled his nose into the nape of his neck. 

"I believe you," Harry said, smiling as Louis pressed a kiss against his forehead. "It's not like I don’t trust you. I know not everyone is like Aiden. In fact, I think most people are _not_ like him. It was more just that I needed to sort out what I wanted out of my life after that relationship. Start back doing the things I enjoyed before he came along. Figure out who I was without him when I was standing alone on my own two feet. Sort out what I want from a relationship so that I never find myself in that situation again."

He felt Louis nod gently against the side of his head. He placed one more kiss to Harry’s curls before pushing him upright and pulling away. Harry leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

"I know all this is still new here," Louis said, gesturing between the two of them, "but if you are ever not happy, you need to say something. Whether it's about big things or small things. I can be a lot to handle sometimes, but I'll never intentionally hurt you. So whether you're upset because you feel I've done something big, or just because my feet stink and I won't stop touching you with them, either way… I want you to speak up. You deserve to be heard. You deserve to be happy."

“Thank you,” Harry smiled. This person. This person was special. “I’m so glad I met you.”

“Good,” Louis whispered.

Harry let his eyes close as he felt Louis press his lips against his mouth, smiling as he felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

“Good.” 

“Hey,” Harry grinned into Louis’ mouth, “I just realized that it’s almost our one-month anniversary.”

“That is not a thing,” Louis said as he pulled away from Harry and rolled his eyes. “Anniversary. Anni. As in, annual. As in, yearly.” 

“Tomorrow it will have been one month since I met you!” 

“You remember the date?” 

Harry could see that despite his attempt at aloofness, he was blushing. 

“Of course,” he squeezed Louis’ hand where it lay in his lap. “Couldn’t forget that if I tried. I saw you walk in that café and sent up about fifty silent prayers that _you_ weren’t my brother.” 

Louis smirked.

“What a coincidence, I saw you and sent up about fifty silent prayers hoping that you weren’t _Liam’s_ secret brother,” he teased.

“Why?!” 

Louis’ eyes sparkled as he giggled into his fist.

“Because! Look at you. It would be just my luck that the most beautiful man I’d ever seen in person would be somehow related to my best friend and, therefore, off limits.” 

Harry felt a flush rising in his cheeks as he dropped his gaze to his lap.

“Most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, huh?”

“Ever seen _in person_ ,” Louis corrected with a wink. “You’re fit as fuck and all, but David Beckham’s still out there somewhere.”

Harry laughed and pulled him in for one more kiss before standing and gathering their plates.

“We should celebrate,” he called over his shoulder as he walked their dishes toward the sink and piled them up. He headed back toward the table for the fruit bowl. “Dinner or something tonight. Celebrate our one monthiversary.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Louis batted his eyelashes flirtatiously.

“I am. Are you saying yes?”

“I am,” Louis smiled. “Unless you keep calling it our monthiversary, in which case I am unequivocally saying 'no' and never speaking to you again.”

“It’s a date,” Harry grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice.


	9. The Monthiversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry hates work. Louis gets a flower.
> 
> They're both boyfriends.

******  
9.1

THE MONTHIVERSARY  
Sunday, May 10, 2015

HARRY  
******

 

“So, what do you think I should put on the card?” 

Harry looked over to find Zayn smiling down stupidly at his phone. He was most likely texting Liam. Niall seemed equally uninterested in Harry’s question as he bit into his pizza and shouted something unintelligible at the telly.

“Hello? Anyone? Anyoooooone?”

“Sorry, mate, what was that?” Niall mumbled through a mouth full of pepperonis. 

“I asked what you think I should put on the card." 

He scrolled down the florist’s website on his phone, browsing the different arrangements and hoping that the perfect one would just jump out at him. 

“I’ve never actually sent anyone flowers before.”

“How about writing him a poem?” Niall asked. 

Harry considered it.

“Roses are red, violets are blue, your black jeans make me want to blow you,” Harry offered up. Not his best work. “I met you in April, we’ve watched one month pass, so enjoy these flowers while I eat your ass.”

“Romantic,” Zayn mumbled sarcastically from his spot on the chair across the room. "Really beautiful."

“Well I don’t know how to write a fucking poem,” Harry argued. 

He had never written anyone a poem on a bouquet of flowers before. He had never even sent anyone flowers before. 

“Maybe I’ll just write 'Happy Monthiversary' and be done with it.”

“You write songs, like, every day,” Zayn said, finally looking up from his phone. He grabbed a piece of pizza from the box on the coffee table. “A poem is the same thing.”

Songs. Song lyrics. Perfect. Harry knew immediately what to write. He typed out the words into the Comment box on the page for the arrangement that he had selected and smiled softly, hoping that Louis would understand when he read them tomorrow. He had decided on the most colorful, crazy looking orchid that the florist offered. It was yellow with red spots and wild petals. It was vibrant and chaotic and beautiful. 

It was Louis. 

Harry entered his credit card information and Louis’ office address for the delivery before submitting the order.

“Done,” he smiled as he tossed his phone onto the cushion beside him. “Boyfriend of the Century.”

“Boyfriend?” Niall smirked. “When did that happen?”

“Uh," Harry frowned, "actually, I guess it technically hasn’t."

He realized that this was the first time he had referred to Louis as his boyfriend and they hadn’t even actually discussed it yet. Probably needed to do that. 

“Not officially, at least. I mean, I consider him my boyfriend. We are dating. We go on dates. We are sleeping together. I’m not sleeping with anyone else. Boyfriend. Right?”

“Might want to make sure he’s on the same page,” Zayn chimed in lazily. A stray piece of melted cheese dangled from his mouth.

Harry hadn’t really considered that Louis might not be on the same page. It felt like they were on the same page. They seemed to be on the same page. Or, at least, similar pages. 

Of course, he hadn’t actually dated anyone since Aiden, and Aiden had _definitely_ been his boyfriend, and he seemed to remember that they had established that pretty early on in their relationship. He had just assumed that he and Louis were boyfriends, too. Maybe that’s not how dating worked, these days. Maybe he was so out of practice that he was getting it wrong.

“I don’t think he’s seeing other people or anything,” Harry thought outloud.

“Has he said that, though?” Niall said, taking a sip from his beer. “If he hasn’t said it, you don’t really know, mate.” 

Harry felt sick. Maybe that’s why Louis hadn’t wanted to make a big deal about their monthiversary. He probably shouldn’t have ordered one-monthiversary flowers and put sappy song lyrics on the card for someone who might be sticking his dick into someone else on the regular. 

Shit.

“No, he hasn’t said it,” Harry mumbled. “Didn’t think he needed to, really.”

“You should probably ask him,” Zayn suggested. 

No shit.

“Yeah, yeah I will,” Harry took a sip of his beer. The thought of Louis with someone else was making him nauseous. “I’m going to be seeing him tonight. I’ll ask him then.”

“Didn’t you just see him this morning? And last night? And Friday night?” Niall asked playfully. Harry’s phone buzzed on the cushion next to him. “Aren’t you sick of him yet?”

“Definitely not,” Harry smiled as he opened the text from Louis. 

It was a picture. Louis’ face peered up at Harry from the phone screen, the bottom half covered in shaving cream and Louis’ eyes crossed in a stupid expression.

 **Louis Tomlinson, 5:18pm:**  
shaving cuz i know you like it smooth you freak

He was about to respond when he realized that Louis was standing with his back to the mirror, completely naked, the reflection of his big ass caught in the picture. Harry’s dick twitched in his jeans as he brought his phone closer to his face and zoomed in on the pale skin. 

He could see where his cheeks met the top of his thigh. He could also see what he was pretty sure were the remnants of bite marks. Harry's teeth. His ass belonged in the Museum of Modern Art, honestly. Magnificent.

 **5:23pm:**  
I like it however you like it. Smooth, scruffy, whatever you want. Also, I can see your big ass in the mirror. –H

 **Louis Tomlinson, 5:25pm:**  
i know

Cheeky little shit.

 

******

 

Harry pulled the car up in front of the restaurant and turned off the engine as quickly as possible. Louis had spent the entire ride mashing every button on his dashboard, listening to only the first thirty seconds of each song before changing it and singing the words loudly and obnoxiously as he fought with Harry over the volume controls.

Thank God the ride was over. Harry’s ears were ringing.

“Aww, I liked that song!” Louis pouted as the power shut off and Harry removed the key from the ignition. “Oh well, guess we’ll just have to hear it on the way home.” 

Harry groaned.

“I think you busted my eardrums,” he said as he met Louis’ eyes across the center console. 

The light from the streetlamp outside Louis’ window was dancing across his eyelashes and casting long shadows across his cheeks. His hair was messy and soft without any product in it and his face was smooth from where he had shaved. Harry wanted to touch.

“This restaurant looks nice,” Louis smiled, reaching over to take Harry’s hand in his own. “I don’t think we’re allowed to park here, though, love.”

A soft knock on Harry’s window startled him out of staring slack-jawed at Louis’ perfect face. He rolled down the window to greet a young, teenage boy in a dark blue vest with the name of the restaurant embroidered on the front.

“Good evening, Sir,” he said. “Will you be valet parking tonight?”

“Oh, uhh,” Harry looked up at the boy and considered his question. He hadn’t really planned on paying to valet but, what the hell, it was their monthiversary. “Sure. It’s our monthiversary, by the way,” he announced. 

Louis groaned from the passenger seat as Harry opened the car door to climb out. 

“I am _not_ with this person,” Louis said dramatically as he shut the door behind him and walked around the car. “Never seen him in my life, actually. No clue what a monthiversary is, either.”

“The air conditioning doesn’t work,” Harry told the valet. “Not sure how far you’re driving it so you might want to roll the windows down… it gets a bit stuffy if you don’t. Also, if it doesn’t start right away you just need to jiggle the key a bit and give it some gas. Thirty seconds or so and it will usually stay on after that.” 

Harry grinned and handed his keys to the valet. The boy nodded skeptically as he opened the driver’s side door and climbed in, rolling the windows down to hand Harry a ticket to claim the car later.

“Enjoy your dinner,” he said politely as he pulled away from the curb.

Harry smiled as he turned to face Louis and curl his fingers gently into his palm.

“Ho ho ho, valet parking, big spender over here,” Louis teased. 

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smirked up at Harry. They walked into the restaurant side-by-side and headed for the host stand as Harry felt Louis rubing the familiar circles into the webbing of his fingers with his thumb. He was starting to love that feeling.

“Reservation for two,” he told the hostess. “Styles.”

“Right this way,” she said sweetly. 

She led the men through the dark restaurant toward a small table near the back. A candle was flickering in the middle, sending soft light flickering across the white tablecloth underneath.

“This place is really nice,” Louis murmured as he pulled out his chair to sit. “I feel a bit underdressed.”

“You look perfect.” 

Harry watched as Louis smiled and dropped his gaze, a slight flush visible on his cheeks even in the dark restaurant. He felt Louis’ feet hook around his ankles underneath the table as soon as he took his seat. 

He was about to reach across to take Louis’ hand and elaborate on just how good he looked when their server arrived to his left with a plate of bread and two glasses of water.

“Sir, Sir,” he nodded at each of them as he sat the items down gently. “Are we drinking this evening?”

“Obviously,” Louis said as his eyes roamed the wine list. “Do you prefer red or white?” 

“Red."

Louis nodded in agreement as he looked up toward their server.

“Do you have a red that you recommend?” 

“We have a very popular Pinot Noir,” he told Louis. "Excellent choice."

“Works for me,” Louis smiled. 

Harry felt him drag the toe of his shoe up the back of his calf flirtatiously. He shuddered. 

“Same. We’ll take a bottle of that.” 

Harry handed the wine list back to the server and thanked him as he took off to fill their order. 

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a wine lover, if I’m honest,” he said, smiling at Louis.

“Oh Harold, you have so much to learn about me,” Louis said playfully. He winked and took a sip of his water. “For instance, wine makes me slutty. Prepare yourself.”

“You should not have told me that.” 

Harry ripped a piece of bread off of the corner of the loaf and dipped it into a dish of balsamic. 

“Going to quit my job and dedicate the rest of my life to getting you wine-drunk.”

“It makes me slutty but it also makes me really, really annoying,” Louis warned. He bit into his own bread and sent crumbs flying onto the table. “Like, let’s-lay-on-the-floor-and-talk-about-our-deepest-love annoying.”

“Ooooh, that sounds interesting. I want to hear about your deepest love.”

“I was just using that as an example,” Louis deflected.

“I told you about Aiden, it’s only fair that you share yours. Unless it’s awful and you’d rather not get into it on our monthiversary.”

“If you don’t stop saying ‘monthiversary’ I’m going to throw this loaf of bread at your face and call a taxi to come get me,” Louis glared at Harry from across the table. Harry stifled a giggle. “Plus, there’s nothing to tell. I don’t have one.”

“Don’t have one what?”

“A deepest love,” Louis said plainly. “Any love. Never been in love.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.” 

Harry watched as Louis balled up a bit of the soft part of his bread and tossed it at Harry, narrowly missing his eye. 

“I’ve dated a few people but they’ve mostly been wankers. No one worth breaking out the L-word for."

Another ball of bread hit Harry’s nose.

“You are a menace,” he smiled at Louis as he leaned over to pick up the bread ball from where it landed on the floor. “Well, exactly how many wankers have you dated?”

“Oh, let’s see… three _official_ wankers,” Louis said matter-of-factly as he held up three fingers. “I had some unofficial wankers dispersed between them, though. I clearly have a type.”

“So am I a wanker, then?” 

“You are most definitely _not_ a wanker,” Louis grinned. Harry felt the continuous drag of Louis’ foot against the back of his calf under the table, sending chills over his body every now and then. “Well, actually, it might be too soon to say one way or the other,” Louis teased. “Stay tuned. All signs point to ‘no’ at the moment, but I’ve been wrong before…” 

Harry laughed as their server arrived with the bottle of wine and two glasses, pouring each of them a generous serving and taking their dinner order. Louis launched into a story about one of the worst dates that he had ever been on as Harry stuffed his face with fresh-baked bread. He was enraptured by the way Louis' hands moved when he talked, flittering about in the air in front of him, his face and voice so expressive. 

“So, long story short, our ‘date’ was actually just him using me to help move his grandmother’s piano down four flights of stairs in the dead heat of summer,” Louis said. "He even tried to pay me when we were done." 

Harry was cackling, his laughter far too loud for the small restaurant as he clutched his stomach in pain. 

“Didn’t call that one back.”

“Oh my God, that’s priceless,” Harry wheezed. 

He poured another glass of wine for each of them and felt the warm buzz of the alcohol working its way through his veins. The candlelight danced across Louis’ face, his smile big and bright and lips already stained red from the wine. He was gorgeous.

“I’d like to propose a toast,” Louis grinned. Harry held his glass up. “To… one month. Meet you here to celebrate two?”

“It’s a date,” Harry said with a big, stupid smile. He clanked their glasses together and took a sip. “Cheers.”

 

******

 

They were drunk.

Louis hadn’t been lying; he really did get emotional and slutty from wine. Harry had nearly needed to excuse himself from the table when Louis had picked up a whole roasted carrot from his plate and pretended to deepthroat it.

He was fairly certain that the tables around them had seen everything very clearly.

“You’re drunk,” Louis giggled. 

He tossed a piece of their stale bread into Harry’s glass. There were now four pieces of bread floating in his wine. Menace.

“You’re a menace. And, _you’re_ drunk.”

“You can’t prove that,” Louis grinned. “How are we going to get home? You can’t drive. Drunky. Drunky can’t drive.” 

Harry watched as he took another sip of his wine. His lips and teeth were stained totally red. They were well into their third bottle. Whoops.

“Shit,” Harry said. He took another sip of his own and furrowed his brow. Why was he still drinking? “We could walk home. We’re only, like, a few miles from my flat.”

“Walk? In the dark? A few miles? Or you could just drown me in this wine and leave me here to die.” 

“We could call a taxi,” Harry suggested.

“Your car is in the valet spot. Are you going to leave it there all night?” 

“We could take a romantic evening stroll while we sober up and then I could drive us home,” Harry said as he topped off each of their glasses, effectively emptying the bottle and setting it gently back down on the table. “There’s a park right around here somewhere.”

“Mmmm, I think I could get behind that idea,” Louis swirled the liquid around in his glass before taking a sip and smiling at Harry. “Love me a good romantic stroll.”

“Are we boyfriends?” Harry blurted out.

That had gone smoother when he had rehearsed it in his head earlier, but what the hell. Short, sweet, and to the point. 

Louis’ eyebrows shot up.

“What?” 

“Are we boyfriends?” Harry repeated. “I called you my boyfriend to Niall and Zayn today and I figured that I should probably make sure that we actually _are_ boyfriends before I start running around telling everyone that we are.”

“Boyfriends? What gave you that idea?” 

Shit. Harry felt his heart sink He suddenly felt very stupid and wished that he could take the question back. Rephrase it to sound less desperate. Not bring it up to begin with. Fall into a hole and vanish forever. All viable options.

“Uhhh,” his foggy mind stumbled to figure out a way to salvage the situation.

“Was it all the texting? The hourly texting? Every day for the past month?” Louis said, quirking one eyebrow up. “Or was it the multiple dates that we’ve been on? Or maybe was it the kissing after the dates? Or the kissing before the dates? Wait… was it the fucking? Oh, God, it was probably the fucking right?” 

Harry giggled into his fist as Louis continued. 

“Oh God, was it your tongue in my arse?” 

Harry bursted out laughing, his eyes darting to the surrounding tables to make sure none of them had heard. 

“I’m sorry, Harry, you’re just going to have to talk me through this… I just do not understand what would have possibly given you the impression that we are together…”

“Alright, alright,” Harry reached across the table and took Louis’ hands in his, still giggling as Louis smirked back at him. “No need to be an arse about it.”

“Honestly, of course we are boyfriends, you great oaf,” Louis shook his head fondly. “Thought I made it pretty obvious that I kind of sort of like you a lot.”

Harry felt the flush in his cheeks deepen despite already being rosy and warm from the wine. Louis’ words warmed his chest and sent butterflies through his stomach.

“I like you, too,” Harry’s smile was so big it was almost painful. “Very much a lot.”

“…Very much a lot?”

“Very much a lot.”

 

******

 

“Are we about to get mugged?” Harry whispered.

His eyes surveyed the dark park around them. The moon and a few dull pathway lamps were their only sources of light. Louis giggled.

“I really hope not,” he said, squeezing Harry’s hand in his own where it swung between them. “I’ve got to be honest, I don’t love our chances against a hardened criminal.”

“What?!” Harry tried to sound scandalized as he clasped one hand to his chest in shock. “I’ll have you know that I take a boxing class once a week. Punching and stuff. I could kick some ass if I needed to.”

“Have you ever actually hit anything in your life?” 

Louis looked up at Harry and raised an eyebrow skeptically. Harry thought about that.

“One time, when I was, like, nine or ten or something,” Harry said as he tried to dredge up the old memory from deep inside his mind, “… no, twelve. I was, like, twelve-ish…”

“Nine, ten, twelve, same thing,” Louis teased. “Keep it moving.”

Harry shot a sideways glare at Louis before continuing. 

“Yeah, so, I was like, twelve or something. And there were these kids that lived on our street. They were kind of pricks. And a few of them were picking on Gems one day. Saying mean things about how she looked and dressed, just being asshole kids, you know how it goes.”

“So you fought a gang of kids to defend your sister’s honor?” Louis asked excitedly.

“Uh, well, I told them that it was really, really rude to pick on girls like that,” Harry explained. “Gemma puts on a hard exterior, but she is actually really sensitive. And she cried about it for days. Anyway, I told them that they were being really rude. And that they would be upset if someone talked to them that way, and that they needed to apologize and take it back. But they didn’t.”

“So then you fought them?”

“Well, no,” Harry said slowly. “They didn’t apologize, they just laughed, and Gemma was crying so I walked her home. Plus, it was really hot outside and I didn't have any shoes on because we were coming back from the pool and my feet were burning. But then when I got home and, like, got into my room I was so mad that I punched the wall and it left a small hole. Mum was pretty angry.”

“Wow,” Louis’ eyes were big. “Wow. Wow. Wowww, Harry. I don’t even know what to say. That was…” 

He looked up at Harry and narrowed his eyes. 

“That was easily the absolute _worst_ fight story I have ever heard.”

“I never said it was a fight story!” Harry pulled his hand away from Louis’ and wrapped it around his shoulders instead, pulling his body in close to his side for warmth as they walked. “You asked if I’d ever hit anything. And I have. A wall.”

“You little rebel, you,” Louis mocked. “Gave those kids a stern talking to and then got mildly irritated at a wall alone in your room. My angry, violent, badass boyfriend. Hot and dangerous.”

Harry giggled and pressed a kiss into the soft hair at the top of Louis’ head. Their steps were slow and their bodies were pressed together side-by-side as they strolled through the dark park. It was late and it was quiet. 

“Well, how are _you_ planning on defending us if we get mugged, then?” Harry asked. 

He severely doubted that Louis would be much of a match for a criminal, unless maybe he jumped on Harry’s shoulders and they went at it chicken-fight-style. That scenario seemed unlikely.

“Oh, I have no plans to defend us against a criminal,” Louis said. “I don’t do physical altercations. I’m more of a verbal assault kind of guy, myself. Fight with my words. Something tells me that words wouldn’t do very much against our hypothetical park attacker, though.”

“You never know, maybe he would be a reasonable criminal,” Harry said. “Maybe you could talk some sense into him and he wouldn’t rob us.”

“Honestly, if he wants to rob me, best of luck to him,” Louis said happily. “Godspeed, mate. I wouldn’t try to make any particularly _large_ purchases, though, if I were him. Maybe limit the transactions to a stick of gum. A magazine. A bus fare.”

Harry threw his head back and laughed. He was still warm from the wine earlier but the crisp air was clearing most of the drunkenness from his mind. Louis was so funny. So witty. The way he talked… 

Harry loved hearing him talk.

“I love hearing you talk,” he said, smiling down at Louis. “You are so funny.”

“I think you need to raise your comedic standards, Harold." 

Harry tightened his grip around Louis’ shoulders and squeezed him tighter into his side.

“No,” he argued. “I have perfectly reasonable comedic standards.”

He stopped walking and turned to face Louis, placing one hand on each of his shoulders and meeting his soft blue eyes where they looked up at him. 

“You are so funny, Lou. I’ve laughed more this past month than… well, I dunno, actually. Ever, maybe?” 

Harry could see Louis blushing as he dropped his gaze to the ground. 

“Hey, no, don’t do that,” Harry said. “Please don’t get embarrassed when I say things like that to you. It’s true and you should hear it every day. You are so smart and witty and funny. It’s one of my very favorite things about you.”

Louis looked up to meet Harry’s eyes. He rocked up suddenly on his tippy toes and crashed his lips into Harry’s, wrapping both arms around his neck and clinging tightly. 

Harry groaned under the surprise attack as he felt Louis’ crotch grind against his own.

“Fuck,” he breathed. 

Louis’ teeth nibbled on his bottom lip. Soft moans escaped his mouth as Harry dropped both hands to his ass and cupped each cheek. He walked them backward a few steps to a rickety old bench along the pathway, which sat partially in the shadows and partially exposed by the lamplight. 

Louis pushed Harry down onto the wooden seat and dropped to his knees in the grass in front of him.

“Shit,” Harry groaned as Louis’ hands worked to unclasp his belt buckle. “Shit, Lou, we’re outside, someone could see—“

“Good,” Louis growled as he dove forward to lick and bite at the skin above Harry’s waistband. He reached up and unzipped Harry’s jeans. “Let them.”

“Oh fuck,” Harry moaned as he felt Louis palming his cock through his pants. "Oh my God--"

All the blood in his body relocated immediately to his groin. Even though it was late and they had yet to see a single other person in the park, the idea that anyone could walk by at any time… being so exposed, so out in the open, Louis on his knees in the grass in front of him… it sent a surge of excitement through Harry’s body and straight to his dick. 

Harry felt the cool evening air hit his skin as Louis freed his cock from his pants.

He took Harry’s dick in his mouth, wasting no time as he licked and sucked and pumped his hand at the base. Harry sucked in air and let his head roll back to look up at the sky. The complete lack of foreplay and feeling of total exposure was sending him catapulting close to the edge much quicker than usual. 

He was not going to last long. 

“Fuck, Lou, that feels amazing,” he hissed.

Harry bucked his hips up as he felt Louis’s mouth sink down further onto his cock, the tip bumping against the back of his throat. Louis groaned and placed both hands on Harry’s exposed thighs, gripping hard and digging his fingernails into the soft skin. His tongue moved as he bobbed gently. 

“Fuck, Louis, careful, I’m close already, fuck—“

Louis wrapped both arms around to the backs of Harry’s thighs and grabbed the skin where his legs met his ass cheeks. He pulled upward in an unspoken invitation for Harry to fuck his mouth.

“Oh, God, yes.” 

Harry gripped the wooden bench and thrusted his hips up as Louis held onto the backs of his thighs, letting Harry fuck his throat. 

“Shit, Lou, I’m close, you need to pull off, oh fuck—“ 

Louis dug his nails in harder and tightened his grip on Harry’s skin, making no effort to remove himself. 

“Oh fuck yes, Louis, right there—”

The cool air on his exposed cock along with the thought of someone seeing them was enough to push Harry past the point of no return. His body tensed as he felt his dick throb desperately in Louis’ mouth. 

Louis moaned again and the vibrations rumbled around Harry’s cock, sending him crashing over the edge and shooting load after load of hot come down the back of Louis’ throat. He thrusted through his orgasm as he felt Louis loosen his grip on the backs of his thighs and pull his hands away. He dropped his head forward to see Louis unzip his jeans and pull his own cock out, red and hard and dripping precome. 

His mouth was still wrapped around Harry, the muscles in his throat still tensing around his sensitive dick as Louis pumped his fist and came hard onto the grass in front of him. His moans and labored breathing where his mouth was still stretched around Harry was almost too much for his sensitive dick as he watched Louis jerk himself off in public. Holy shit. 

He felt Louis pull off of him slowly. The cool breeze blew across his wet cock and sent a shiver through his body. 

“Jesus,” Harry panted. 

Harry felt Louis drop his forehead to his thigh and suck in deep breaths as he attempted to stabilize his heaving chest. Harry leaned forward and tucked his arms under Louis, pulling him to his feet and guiding him onto the bench beside him. 

Both of their pants were still undone and their limp dicks lay spent against their thighs. It all looked very questionable.

“You know,” Louis rasped out, his lips red and swollen and voice scratchy. “I’m pretty sure that was illegal.”

“I am absolutely positive that was illegal,” Harry said as he reached down to lace their fingers together. “No doubt.”

“We should probably, like, put our dicks away.” 

Louis looked down at their groins and chuckled as he took in the scene. Harry busted out laughing. A fit of giggles overtook the both of them as they sat in the dark on a park bench, their sad dicks lying soft against their legs.

They both reached down to tuck themselves back into their pants and zip up. Harry glanced over at Louis once he was all squared away, meeting his soft gaze in the dull light from the pathway lamp behind them. 

“Is it midnight yet?” Louis asked softly. 

His thumb rubbed circles into the skin of Harry’s hand. Harry smiled before glancing down toward his watch.

“Yep,” he looked back up to meet Louis’ eyes. “Eight minutes past, actually.”

“Happy Monthiversary, Haz,” Louis smiled lazily up at Harry. 

Harry leaned down to press a gentle, close-mouthed kiss to Louis’ swollen lips.

“Happy Monthiversary, Lou.”

 

******>br /> 9.2

THE MONTHIVERSARY  
Monday, May 11, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

Louis’ face lay smashed against the wood grain of his desk. He had spent the past ten minutes resting on his cheek, absentmindedly rolling a pencil back and forth and willing time to move faster. He was bored out of his fucking mind. 

Magee had asked him to organize some items for a presentation that he would be giving later in the week, a brainless task that had taken Louis all of two hours to complete. He had gone to lunch early and taken longer than necessary to walk back from the small café down the street. Fuck this job, honestly. He had more to offer the world than this bullshit. 

Also, it was now two o’clock in the afternoon and he hadn’t heard from Harry all day.

He had shot Harry a quick text that morning letting him know that his jeans from the night before were most likely ruined due to the dirt and grass caked to the knees. He had expected a cheeky response in return, but to his surprise, it hadn’t come.

That was four hours ago. 

He peeled his cheek off of his desk and rested his face on his chin, checking his phone again to see the screen blank. Still no text. He had only checked, like, three times since lunch. That’s not pathetic. Well, he kept telling himself it wasn’t pathetic. 

He was just concerned. That's it. Concern. It wasn’t like Harry to ignore his texts. With each hour that passed, Louis felt an uncomfortable feeling settle in his stomach. He hoped that Harry was alright. He hoped that he wasn’t upset about something. Upset at Louis, maybe?

He couldn’t think of any reason that Harry would be upset, though. Their day yesterday had been one of Louis’ favorite days in a long, long time. He had learned a little about Harry's past, and Louis felt like they had crossed some sort of milestone; like they were closer than they had been before now that he knew about Aiden. 

Their date last night was amazing. He had gotten to watch Harry tell corny jokes from across a candlelit table while their blood hummed in their veins, the wine making the both of them giggly and flirty and warm. 

Their sex in the park… Jesus, that had been hot. Louis hadn’t expected Harry to get so into it, but hearing him on that park bench and feeling how fast he came just from the _of someone catching them had nearly been enough to send Louis over the edge right there in his jeans._

His desk phone rang loudly by his ear, startling him out of his daze where his eyes still rested unfocused on his cell phone. He reached over to pick it up.

“This is Louis,” he answered lazily.

His voice sounded bored. He made no attempt to hide it.

“Yes, Mr. Tomlinson, you have a delivery in the front lobby,” the receptionist chirped cheerfully from the other end of the line.

“A delivery?” Louis furrowed his brow. “But I didn’t order anything.”

“Please come pick up your delivery, Mr. Tomlinson." 

Louis could hear her stupid fake smile through the phone. Her voice was sickly sweet and far too cheerful for a Monday.

“Uhh, alright. Be there in a sec.” 

He hung the phone up on the receiver and slid his chair out from underneath his desk before grabbing his phone and checking again for a text from Harry. Still nothing. He stood up and dropped it into his front pocket before heading toward the lobby doors. 

He racked his brain as he walked, trying to remember if he had ordered something and simply forgotten about it. It wouldn’t be the first time. He could be quite the compulsive shopper. On more than one occasion, he had been awake to see the clock strike three in the morning as he lay on his couch making impulse purchases from infomercials and then forgetting about them until they arrived at his flat a week later. 

He really, genuinely did not remember ordering anything this time, though.

He walked through the glass doors and into the lobby, his dress shoes clicking loudly across the tile floor with each step. He stepped up to the front of the desk and waited for the receptionist to acknowledge him. She didn’t raise her head from her crossword puzzle.

“Uhhh, hi. “

Louis cleared his throat in an attempt to get her attention. She glanced up and immediately pasted a fake smile on her face.

“Yes?” she grinned up at him like an idiot. “Can I help you, sir?”

“You called me,” Louis said.

“Yes, well, I make many calls, dear.” 

Her smile grew despite Louis getting the distinct impression that she was irritated.

“This was, like, less than a minute ago,” he said. 

She stared back at him, still grinning.

“About?”

“Seriously? We literally just hung up not even, like, sixty seconds ago…” 

Louis spoke slowly, looking down to where she sat still smiling and unblinking behind her pink eyeglasses. She looked a bit deranged, actually.

“Sir, is there something I can help you with? I really am very busy.” 

Louis looked pointedly down at her half-finished crossword puzzle before bringing his gaze back up to her face. 

“You called me, literally seconds ago, and told me that I have a delivery.” 

“Oh, yes, dear! Why didn’t you just say so."

Louis suppressed the urge to reach down and rip up her crossword. He watched as she bent forward to rummage underneath her desk before straightening up and placing a massive, bright flower in a brown pot in front of him. Louis stared at it.

“It’s… a flower?” 

“Yes, love,” she handed him a clipboard with a pen attached. “Sign, please.”

Louis reached down and took the pen to sign for the delivery. He grabbed the ceramic pot in both hands and headed back toward his desk, examining the petals closely where they wiggled on the stem as he walked. They were beautiful. 

He knew virtually nothing about flowers and he had no fucking clue what this particular flower was, but it was beautiful. Yellow petals with red splotches all over them. It looked like blood. Or fire. 

He sat it down on his desk and sunk back into his chair, noticing the small card wrapped loosely around the stem. He carefully untied the string and tried very hard not to damage the delicate plant. He freed the small piece of paper and unfolded it.

Wanted to send you something as bright and beautiful as you are.  
Without you, things go hazy.  
Happy Monthiversary.  
\- H

Louis felt his stomach swoop and his chest warm as he read and reread the card. He recognized the words from the song that Harry had sang at open mic night on Saturday. What a sap. Louis loved it. 

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He slid the small piece of paper into a small pouch in the leather and zipped it shut. He wanted to keep that safe. Wanted to keep that close.

“Aw, did your girlfriend send you flowers?” 

Louis heard Ben’s voice from somewhere over his shoulder. Like nails on a chalkboard. 

“That is… so weird, honestly,” Ben laughed. “Shouldn’t you be sending _her_ flowers?”

“I’m gay, you dipshit.”

The look on Ben’s pea-brained face would fuel him for the next year.

Louis smiled to himself and raised his middle finger at Ben before turning back toward his flower. He was surprised... he had thought that his sexuality was relatively well known around the office. Especially considering that he had actually been crowned "Christmas Queen" at their company holiday party last year. Ben had been there. Then again, maybe he really was as stupid as he looked. 

Louis heard chuckling from inside Magee’s office as Ben turned and walked away, apparently at a loss for words and looking satisfactorily embarrassed. He turned to see Magee leaning against the doorway, sipping on a cup of tea and laughing under his breath.

“You know, you’re pretty sharp, Tummolson,” he said, his tone surprised. Louis wasn’t sure whether he should feel flattered or offended. Or maybe correct his last name. He decided to say nothing. “Pretty funny. Nice work.” 

He watched as Magee turned and retreated back into his office, shutting the door softly behind him. He sat at his desk, slightly stunned and not entirely sure what had just happened. That was officially the first time that he had ever been praised by Magee. Louis would have preferred that it had been in regards to his actual work, but hell, at this point he would take whatever he could get. This was a strange day.

He turned back to his desk and was met immediately with the sight of Harry’s flower, a bright spot amidst the beige and brown color scheme of their boring office suite. He smiled and debated whether he should text Harry again despite not having received a response from this morning. At least he felt confident at this point that Harry’s silence was not due to anything that Louis had done.

“Who are they from, dear?” 

Louis glanced up and grinned at Gloria, Magee’s adorable and ancient assistant. She was always saying that Louis reminded her of her grandson and, on more than one occasion, had brought in some baked goods for Louis to take home with him. A fucking saint.

“From my boyfriend,” he said happily. 

The word felt good.

“That’s lovely,” she smiled. “He’s a lucky boy. What’s the occasion?”

“It’s our monthiversary. I mean, one-month anniversary.”

Harry could never know that he just said that.

“How nice. Tell me, what’s he like, love?” she asked, obviously eager to discuss Louis’ romantic life. To his own surprise, he didn’t mind.

“He’s….” Louis thought about how to describe Harry. “He’s kind. To, like, everyone he meets. Very, very kind hearted. And he tells _horrible_ jokes. And he's beautiful, and so talented… he’s good at, like, everything pretty much,” he realized he was babbling and felt a flush rise in his cheeks. Shit. Rein it in. “He’s just all-around pretty great.”

“He sounds wonderful,” she smiled. “I hope it all works out, dear.”

“So do I,” Louis murmured. 

He found that he really meant it. 

 

******

 

“I am so sorry I haven’t responded to your texts,” Harry's voice sounded exhausted from the other end of the line.

“It’s alright, I figured that you probably had a good reason,” Louis said happily.

The phone was pressed between his shoulder and ear as he opened the fridge to reach for a beer. He saw one of Harry's fruit and vegetable drinks on the bottom shelf and pursed his lips. Maybe he'd have one of those, instead.

“I was worried until I got the flowers. Thank you again, I love it.”

“It’s an _orchid_

,” Harry corrected. Louis could hear him smiling through the phone. “It reminded me of you.”

“A flower reminded you of me?” Louis chuckled and twisted the cap off of the green sludge, wincing as he took a sip. It wasn't half-bad. “How does that work? Most people would just send roses and be done with it, you know.”

“Cut flowers make me sad.”

“Flowers make you sad?” he laughed. “Why?” 

“They’re already dead when you get them!” Harry argued. “All you’re doing is watching them waste away. Plus, I noticed a disturbing lack of foliage in your flat. You need something alive in there other than you and Liam.”

“What if I kill it? I’m probably going to kill it, you know that right?”

“Orchids are relatively low maintenance,” Harry said. ”Give them a bit of sun, throw an ice cube in the pot and let it melt on the roots every few days. It’ll be happy as a clam.”

“You are highly overestimating my ability to care for anything other than myself.” 

Louis plopped down on the couch and turned on FIFA. 

“Come to think of it, I’m actually not even that great at caring for myself. You’ve issued this orchid a death sentence.”

“Where did you put it?” 

“In my bathroom. Needed a bit of color in there,” Louis said proudly.

“Louis, there are no windows in your bathroom.”

“See? This is what I mean.” 

He took another sip of his juice and propped his feet up on the coffee table as he scanned through the menu screen, setting up his match. 

“I’ve got a black thumb.”

“That’s not a thing,” Harry laughed. “Just move it close to a window and it will be fine. I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” Louis beamed. “I was so surprised. Nearly got into a fight with our receptionist over it, the crazy old bat. But I love it.”

“Good.”

Louis loved the way Harry’s voice sounded over the phone. Soothing. Sensual. He wanted Harry to call him every night before bed and read to him until he fell asleep. That might be a bit too much to ask after only one month of dating. Maybe he would toss that idea out there after their second monthiversary. Of course, he had spent the past few nights falling asleep to Harry’s voice in person, anyway.

He had missed it as he’d drifted off to sleep last night, though.

“So,” Louis said playfully. “Why _did_ you ignore me all day?”

“Ugh,” Harry groaned. “I’m actually still at work. We had a deposition that should have taken four hours, but some shit went down and the opposing counsel surprised us with some things and… well, long story short, we will be back at it tomorrow.”

“That sounds awful. I’m sorry.”

“Eh, it’s kind of the nature of the job,” Harry sounded miserable. “I’ll probably be here until at least eight or so… probably later. Hopefully we will finish this up tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” Louis furrowed his brow and tossed the controller onto the sofa. “Have you eaten? Can I bring you some food or something? Maybe a quickie in the law firm bathroom?”

“Pretty sure that would get me fired,” Harry sighed. His voice sounded less stressed than before, at least. “Although at this point, I’m not sure I would even care. And thank you for offering, but we’ve ordered take out. It should be here soon.”

“I’m sorry you had a bad day.”

Louis wasn’t sure what else to say. This was outside of his area of expertise. Being overwhelmed and stressed from being _overworked_ was not a feeling that he could relate to. He had his own work-related stress and frustrations, but they stemmed from the opposite issue. Boredom.

“My day is much better now that I’m talking to you,” Harry murmured. 

“Want to do dinner or something one night this week? Let me treat you for a change. Maybe follow it up with a deep tissue massage for some stress relief. You have about fifty of those fucking aromatherapy candles, we can light a few of those and I’ll rub you down.”

“Mmm, that sounds amazing,” Harry said, his smile obvious even through the phone. “I don’t have any massage oil, though.”

“We’ve got plenty of lube." 

Harry barked out a laugh on the other end. 

“Yep, got plenty of that,” Harry said. “Alright, I should probably go. I need to look back through the transcripts from today and prep for tomorrow.”

“Sounds riveting. If you need me, I’ll be playing FIFA and drinking beer.” 

Harry could never know that he was actually drinking a bottle of his green sludge. And almost enjoying it.

He hung up and took another sip. Harry had sounded… sad. It was strange to hear him like that when he was usually so bright. Louis thought back to the conversation that they’d had over breakfast the previous morning, where Harry mentioned that Aiden had been the one to suggest a law career years ago. 

He scowled and stared straight ahead. His gaze rested unfocused on the television as he felt himself getting angry at the idea of happy, passionate Harry working at a job he hated because his fuck-off of an ex boyfriend convinced him that what he’d actually wanted out of life wasn’t good enough. 

Harry had sounded so unhappy on the phone. Harry should never sound like that.

Louis’s phone buzzed on the cushion beside him as a text message lit up his screen. It was a link to a Cosmopolitan article. 

**6:28pm:**  
did you honestly google using lube as massage oil

 **Harry Styles, 6:31pm:**  
No comment. – H

 

******  
Friday, May 15, 2015

 

“Oh my God, that is awful,” Harry grimaced. 

He wiped the back of his hand across his lips before taking a sip of water. Louis laughed as he watched Harry swish it around in his mouth to try to rinse the taste away. 

“I completely understand why Liam puked this back up. Completely.”

“Sorry again about that,” Liam said sheepishly as he sipped slowly on his beer. 

“No, no mate, I should be the one apologizing. Shouldn’t have made you feel like you had to drink it,” Niall said as he clapped a hand onto Liam’s back. “Plus, we’ve all been there. We know how it goes.” 

Louis watched as Liam smiled down at the table, the blush in his cheeks fading slightly. Turns out he _had_ ended up buying Zayn breakfast that next morning to show his thanks for taking care of him. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately?), Liam had no recollection of his little rendezvous with the floor in the loo last Saturday. 

He watched as Zayn reached his hand over and clasped it around Liam’s on the top of the table. So this was official. They were a thing now. Good.

Louis felt Harry’s hand drop to his lap and lace his long fingers between his own. He squeezed gently. He looked over to find Harry grinning down stupidly at him, his dimple big and eyes glassy as he absentmindedly sipped on Louis’ beer without realizing it. Louis didn’t mention it.

“You alright there, Harold?” he teased as he returned Harry’s squeeze. 

“Excellent.” 

Harry reached his other hand out toward Louis’ face and booped the tip of his nose. 

“Much better now. Just needed a little itsy bitsy drinky. Bad, bad week. Better now.” 

He leaned in and kissed Louis lightly which prompted a retching noise from Niall across the table. Louis flipped him his middle finger. 

He had gotten Harry’s text at about four o’clock that afternoon as he’d sat at his desk and attempted to piss away the final hour before the weekend without anyone bothering him. He had been crumpling up pieces of computer paper and attempting to shoot them into his wastebasket when his phone had buzzed in his pocket.

 **Harry Styles, 4:11pm:**  
Going to Ed’s around 6 tonight for happy hour. Need a drink ASAP. Will probably stay there for open mic night if you and Liam are interested in joining us. -H  
**Harry Styles, 4:11pm:**  
Forgot to mention my requirements: you wear those tight black jeans with the hole in the knee and we don’t discuss work at any point. –H

 **4:13pm:**  
you ok? sounds to me like you need a stress reliever. ill be there… will invite Li, too  
**4:14pm:**  
i can prob help with the stress relief later if youre interested ;)

 **Harry Styles, 4:15pm:**  
Oh yeah? What did you have in mind? –H

 **4:18pm:**  
i dunno  
**4:19pm:**  
just got to think _long_ & _hard_ about it  
**4:19pm:**  
im sure something will _cum_ to me eventually

 **Harry Styles, 4:23pm:**  
Filthy. Absolutely filthy. Don’t forget to wear the jeans. –H

Louis knew that Harry had had a rough week. He hadn’t gotten to treat him to that dinner and lube massage after all as Harry’s deposition had stretched out until Thursday. Most days, Louis hadn't even been able to talk to him until about six o’clock in the evening, and that was usually just for a quick conversation before Harry had to get back to work to prepare for the next day. 

He hadn’t realized how accustomed he'd grown to talking to Harry until it had been taken away from him. Quite honestly, it sucked.

So here they sat, like every weekend for the past month, packed into a booth at The Grade 8 and listening to various artists playing open mic night. 

Louis watched Liam whisper under his breath to Zayn across the table, both men laughing openly at whatever Liam said as Zayn draped one arm around his shoulders. It looked as though they’d been doing this for years. He watched as Niall attempted to flick a coin into the beer that Harry had stolen from Louis. Harry laughed loudly as he pulled the glass away at the last minute, prompting a loud string of profanities from Niall at the other end of the table, all the while his hand rubbing circles across Louis’ thigh under the table. 

It all felt very… good. Felt right. 

“Next up we have…. Black Orchid,” Louis heard a short woman announce from the stage as she read from the signup sheet. “Harry, Zayn, Niall, you’re up.”

Their server sat a plate of nachos in the center of the table right as the three men stood from their seats. Niall stared down at the hot food, distress written plainly all over his face.

“Unbelievable!” he groaned as he looked longingly at the plate. “Been here for three hours and the food arrives right as it’s time to go on. You two better not eat everything.” 

He looked pointedly at Louis. Louis was absolutely going to eat everything.

Harry leaned over to place a long, wet kiss to Louis’ neck right under his ear, biting the skin gently before pulling away. His stomach swooped as he shivered under Harry’s lips.

Harry smiled devilishly as he slid out of the booth and made his way over toward the stage. His thin, white t-shirt was stretched tight across his back, highlighting his muscles flexing and moving as he walked. Jesus, he was fit.

Louis watched as he arrived at the microphone and adjusted it to his height, offering up a small wave of acknowledgement at the scattered, half-interested applause. He was pretty obviously buzzed.

“Hello, everybody!” 

Harry’s words were even slower and more slurred than usual as he smiled out toward the pub patrons, only about half of whom were even paying attention to the stage. 

“We are—“ Harry hiccupped and clapped one hand to his mouth, grinning as he continued. Louis giggled loudly from his seat. “—whoops, sorry ‘bout that. We are Black Orchid and we are going to play some music for you. Thank you very much for letting us.”

Louis had noticed that Harry’s accent became much more pronounced when he had been drinking. His words were slower and more drawn out as he introduced Niall and Zayn before all three men broke out in an upbeat rendition of a Ryan Adams song that Louis had heard in Harry’s car. 

It was good, but then again, they were always good, and Louis loved watching Harry perform. He truly did have the talent and personality to be a star. He commanded your attention when he was on stage – his voice, his looks, his charisma. He was spellbinding. 

Louis wished that he was in a better position to help them out. Unfortunately, his current job had proven to be less than useful when it came to discovering promising talent. He hadn’t even been able to get their A&R department to take a quick look at anyone he’d brought them, much less sign them. 

Plus, there was the whole issue of him dating Harry. He didn’t know if that would be a conflict of interest. He also didn’t know how Harry would feel about it, and he didn’t know how to bring it up to him. Louis didn’t want him to think that he only wanted to help them out because he was falling for him. 

His heart warmed as he watched Harry hop on one foot across the stage like an idiot. Fuck. Louis was falling for him.

They really were good, though, that was the thing. They definitely weren’t perfect – there was something missing that Louis couldn’t quite put his finger on – but they definitely had the makings of a successful group. All three were good-looking, all three were likeable, and more than that, they were truly talented. 

The original songs that they had played at the gig a few weeks earlier had impressed Louis both lyrically and musically. It was relatively easy to find acts that could nail a cover song, but it was far more difficult to find acts that were also offering up quality original work. 

They also had mass appeal. They were a good balance between rock and pop. They played the kind of music that would appeal to your general public radio listeners and your indie music snobs alike. 

Louis decided that he would talk to Harry about it. He wouldn’t be able to promise anything, but he wanted to at least offer. 

Maybe his sexist boss would be more receptive to an all-male band, anyway.

“Thank you, thank you,” Harry slurred as he pushed the loose strands of hair out of his eyes. Louis wondered where his headscarf was. “And now, we have a bit of a surprise.” 

Harry’s tone was playful. He looked straight at Louis as his lips turned up into a smirk. 

“What is he talking about?” Liam asked.

“No clue." 

He took a sip of his beer as he watched Harry converse with Niall and Zayn before returning to the microphone, his white t-shirt clinging to his chest. Damn. 

Louis fanned himself and took another sip.

“This next one is a classic, a true ‘90s classic,” Harry smiled. “But we are going to need a bit of help! Louis, Liam, please, join us.” 

Harry grinned as his eyes settled on their booth in the corner. 

Oh, hell no.

Louis looked over to see Liam staring back at him, his eyes wide and clearly just as surprised as he was. Zayn obviously hadn’t tipped him off, either. 

Louis looked up toward the stage to see the three men looking down at them expectantly. His ears registered shouting and cheering from people around their booth, encouraging them to go.

“Shit,” Louis muttered as he chugged the rest of his beer and met Liam’s eyes. “Well, you coming?”

“Uhh,” Liam looked confused. “Sure, yeah, I guess so, why not.” 

The two men slid out of the booth and headed toward the stage. Louis gave a half-hearted wave to the scattering of applause that was rising up around them as Harry grinned devilishly at him. He jogged up the steps and into the spotlight, with Liam stepping up right behind him.

“You will pay for this,” he muttered to Harry through his teeth.

He tried to sound menacing and failed. Harry only smiled.

He wanted to be irritated, but it was hard to feel anything other than excitement as the adrenaline from being up on stage coursed through his veins. He remembered this feeling. He missed this feeling. 

The stage lights hit him as he stepped up to the microphone. Harry’s big eyes sparkled as he reached down and picked up his guitar, slinging the strap over his shoulder. Louis watched as Niall handed Liam a microphone to his left. 

“Sorry, mate, we only have the one extra,” Niall shrugged.

“No worries, you can just share mine,” Harry smiled at Louis as he lowered the microphone to his level.

Harry strummed out a few notes on his guitar as he addressed the audience. 

“So, we’ve got some very, very special guests up here with us,” Harry said. 

Louis caught Liam’s eye next to him and grinned. It had been a long time since they had been on a stage together. It felt good. Exciting. Familiar. 

“If you know the words, please, sing along,” Harry chirped. 

A fleeting moment of panic overtook Louis as he realized that _he_ might not know the words. Harry hadn’t even mentioned what fucking song they were singing. Louis was about to point this out when Harry and Niall started playing the opening chords. He recognized them almost immediately and his panic subsided.

He looked over at Liam and gave him a small thumbs-up, but Liam was distractedly smiling at Zayn somewhere behind him. Useless. 

Harry began singing the intro alone when Louis heard Liam’s voice, taking it upon himself to jump in and join Harry. Harry looked to Louis with his eyebrows raised in surprise as he stopped singing and let him take over completely. 

You don’t seem to know  
Or seem to care  
What your heart is for  
Well I don’t know her anymore

Harry sang the bridge alone, his deep, raspy voice beautiful in this key. Louis couldn’t look away from his face. Their mouths were separated by just a few inches across the microphone.

There’s nothing left, I used to cry  
My conversation has run dry  
That’s what’s going on  
Nothing’s fine, I’m torn

Louis decided to just wing it and jump in for the chorus, allowing his instincts to take over since they had not actually rehearsed this. The other four men seemed to have the same idea as they all harmonized together.

I’m all out of faith, this is how I feel  
I’m cold and I am shamed, lying naked on the floor  
Illusion never changed into something real  
I’m wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn  
You’re a little late  
I’m already torn

Louis met Harry’s eyes over the top of their shared microphone as they sang, with Harry strumming on his guitar and grinning down at him like a fool. He looked adorable as he had to crouch down slightly to reach the mic. 

Louis was smiling from ear to ear as the crowd clapped and sang along. Harry removed his hands from his guitar to wave them wildly over his head. 

The five of them together sounded… really fucking good, actually? Obviously it sounded a bit rough around the edges since this was their first time singing together and all, and they had definitely never rehearsed this particular song, but Louis was truly surprised at how good they sounded. 

He smiled and tapped his hand against his thigh to the beat as they finished the song. A loud round of applause from the crowd filled his chest as Harry wrapped his arm around his shoulders, leading Louis in an over-exaggerated bow. 

He laughed as the five men hopped down from the stage and made their way back toward their booth, adrenaline still coursing through his veins as they slid in behind one another. Five fresh beers sat sweating on the wooden table. Ed had apparently brought over a new round in their absence. 

Louis curled up into Harry’s side still laughing as he took a sip.

“That was so much fun!” 

Harry dropped his arm over Louis’ shoulders and squeezed. 

“It sounded so good, too,” Harry said excitedly. “It was, like, thicker with the two of your voices added in there. It really rounded out the sound. Was incredible.”

“You didn’t tell me you could _really_ sing,” Louis heard Zayn say to Liam from across the table. “Your voice is…”

“It’s amazing, right?” Louis grinned. 

He hadn’t gotten to hear Liam sing outside of their flat in quite some time. He sometimes forgot that he was a properly trained singer.

“Thanks,” Liam blushed. “These days I only really get to sing with the kids when we are working on a play or something. Teaching them the lyrics or helping them hit their notes. It felt good to be up there. The last time Tommo and I performed together was… Uni?”

“Yep.” 

He patted Harry’s thigh next to him and allowed his hand to inch higher toward his groin. Harry squirmed in his seat. 

“It’s been a while,” Louis said. “Not that I don’t get to hear you sing every morning in the fucking shower. Wake up to some awful Katy Perry song echoing through the flat.”

“I hate Katy Perry,” Liam protested. 

“Caught you singing Firework the other morning though, didn’t I?” 

“You guys should sing with us more often,” Niall suggested, holding his glass up for a toast. “Made us sound good.”

“I’ll second that,” Harry agreed.

He lifted his beer to meet Niall’s.

“You toast more than anyone I’ve ever met,” Louis picked up his own glass and placed it alongside Harry’s in the center of the table. 

“I love a good toast,” Niall smiled as the five of them clanked their glasses together. 

Louis was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice.


	10. The Night In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis is supportive. Harry gets braids.
> 
> They both get high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **NOTE: This chapter contains recreational drug use (i.e. marijuana.)

******  
10.1 

THE NIGHT IN  
Saturday, June 20, 2015

HARRY  
******

 

“You’re so tight,” Louis said from somewhere behind him. 

“God, that feels so fucking good,” Harry dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes while Louis continued to work. “Your hands should be illegal, my God--”

“Ah, think I found the spot--" 

Louis' voice was concentrated as Harry seized up in response to his fingers. 

“Yeah, this is it, got it right here baby.”

“Fuck, Louis,” Harry groaned. “Fuckkk. Ouch, Jesus, be careful, you know I bruise like a peach—“

Harry felt Louis’ knuckles knead deeper into the meat beside his shoulder blade, working tirelessly to massage out the knot. He leaned forward in the chair to allow Louis better access to his back as the warm massage oil soothed his skin. 

“You’re too young to be this stressed,” Louis murmured. “I hate seeing you like this. Wound up so tight. Hate it.”

Harry sighed. Louis was right, he had definitely been more stressed than usual the past couple of weeks. Actually, come to think of it, the entire past month had been extremely stressful.

“It’s just this fucking case,” Harry groaned. “Things should get better once it’s over. If it ever ends.”

“I hope so,” Louis' voice sounded a bit sad, making Harry feel guilty. “Although you did say that about the one before this, too…”

“I hate my job,” Harry said quietly.

Louis’ hands stopped moving.

“I know.”

He felt the warm flesh of Louis’ lips pressing into the back of his neck.

“I don’t know what to do,” Harry admitted. 

He felt Louis remove his lips and resume the massage. He knew that it was an unspoken invitation for him to continue talking without feeling pressured to do so. Louis was great like that. Always knew how to put Harry at ease. Knew it was easier for him to talk about these things if Louis made himself appear busy with something else. 

Harry cleared his throat.

“I’m about to be twenty-seven,” he said, exhaling deeply, “and every day I walk into that fucking office, and it just solidifies it for me even more that I don’t want to do that.” 

He rolled his head forward as he felt Louis’ hands make their way up to the tops of his shoulders. 

“Don’t want to be an attorney, but what the fuck else can I do at this point? I’ve got a degree. I’ve got years of experience working at a firm. I’m not even qualified to have any other jobs. Fuck, Lou, I’m barely qualified for _this_ job… my boss only hired me ‘cause I told him I’d be enrolling in law school. Which, obviously, I have not done. And now he's started badgering me about that."p >

“Well, what do you enjoy?” Louis asked. 

Harry felt his hands rubbing heavy circles into the muscles along his spine. He thought about it.

“Music,” he answered easily. “Being on stage. That’s probably when I’m happiest. And I love to cook. I like exercising. I like to read. I like eating you out.”

Louis giggled.

“It’s too bad for the both of us that you can’t make a career out of that." 

“Can’t make a career out of any of that," Harry sighed. "They’re just stupid hobbies.”

“That’s not true.”

He felt Louis lean down and wrap himself around his upper body from behind, resting his chin over Harry’s shoulder and pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“You’re going to have massage oil all over your shirt,” Harry grinned.

“Don’t care,” Louis said happily. “And all those things you just mentioned, they are not just ‘stupid hobbies.’ They are the things you love to do, and there are people who make a living out of doing all of those things every day. Except maybe eating me out...” he smiled and bit Harry’s earlobe playfully before pulling away and resuming his massage, “...unfortunately.”

“How, though?” 

“Hmm, let’s see.” 

Louis pushed Harry forward gently for better access to his lower back. 

“Music… there are musicians, obviously. Or, people who work for musicians. Or people who own music stores. Or people who are music critics. Or people who work at music venues.” 

Harry hummed in agreement as Louis rambled on. 

“Cooking… there are chefs. Or people who own restaurants. Or food trucks! Or cooking bloggers. People who write cookbooks. Exercise… there are personal trainers. Bodybuilders. Although I have to tell you, I’m not too keen on the idea of you getting into bodybuilding, but if it would make you happy…” 

Harry laughed. His heart felt so big that it might burst as he listened to Louis throw out different ways for him to quit his miserable job and pursue something that he loved with no regards to money or status or anything. Louis was just so special. 

It had been nearly three months and he still surprised Harry every day with just how special he was.

“Most of those things, though, they’re not exactly lucrative,” Harry chuckled dryly. “Money isn’t everything, but I do still have to eat, you know.”

“Well obviously." 

He didn’t have to look back to know that Louis was rolling his eyes at him. 

“I’m not saying that you should quit your job tomorrow and throw all of your eggs into the Foodie Blogger basket," Louis said, "but money isn’t everything either. The value of your work isn’t just measured in your paychecks. There is plenty of value in loving what you do, too.”

Harry sighed and rolled his neck to the side as Louis kneaded the flesh.

“If you hate your life, does it really matter how much money you make?”

“Guess not."

“Plus, you can always downsize. Get a smaller flat,” Louis suggested.

“This is already a one bedroom!”

“There are studios,” Louis teased. “Or join a cheaper yoga studio for you to sweat your balls off at. Shit, I’ll just turn the heat up in our flat and you can do your yoga in there for free. As long as you can pay your bills, you’ll be fine. You don’t have to be rich to live a rich life.”

Harry turned around in his chair to look up at Louis. His fringe was spilling into his eyes and there was a slight sheen of sweat forming on his face from where he had been working hard to relieve the tension in Harry’s back. 

He reached up and moved the hair out of Louis’ eyes, dragging his thumb down his cheek before pushing himself off the chair and planting a kiss on Louis’ lips.

“You wouldn’t care if I was poor?” Harry smiled against Louis’ mouth.

“Babe, I wouldn’t care if you had tentacles for arms and three horns shooting out of your forehead.” 

Harry laughed as Louis bit at his bottom lip gently. 

“Poor is the least of my concerns. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I, myself, am also poor. Rich… poor… as long as you’re still Harry, I’ll be right here.”

Harry’s smile widened as he deepened their kiss, moving his lips in time with Louis’ and reaching both hands up to cup his face. He slowed their rhythm and pulled away before planting a quick kiss on Louis’ nose. 

Harry sank back down into his chair and grinned up at him.

“Thank you,” he said. “For being you.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t thank me for that if I were you,” Louis said playfully. “You’re covered in massage oil. Filthy. I think you need a bit of a bath.”

He watched as Louis pulled his hand out from behind his back. Harry’s nearly full cup of water from earlier was clutched in his fingers as Louis’ eyes twinkled mischievously. He must have swiped it without him knowing while they were making out. Little shit.

“Argh, no!” Harry shrieked as he tried to jump backward off the chair just as Louis dumped the entire glass of water over his head. “You are a fucking menace!”

Louis cackled and took off running down the hallway. Harry shook the water out of his eyes as he attempted to chase him, giggling uncontrollably and slipping on the wet floor. Louis plowed through Harry’s bedroom door and attempted to slam it shut behind him just as Harry reached the threshold. He was barely able to stop it from clasping. 

He threw his entire body weight against the door to try to push it open. His chest was heaving as he laughed, a trail of water visible on the hardwoods all the way down the hallway from where he ran.

“Louis William Tomlinson,” Harry choked out through wheezes between fits of giggles, “open this door right fucking now.”

“Never!” Louis shrieked from behind it. 

He was stronger than Harry had originally given him credit for. Harry tried to push all of his weight against the door and it barely budged as Louis laughed and panted from the other side.

“Open this door or—” Harry tried to think of a good threat, “—or I’ll put you on blowjob suspension for a week!”

“What the fuck is blowjob suspension?” 

“No fucking blowjobs, obviously!” 

Harry shoved his shoulder hard against the wooden door just as Louis stepped away. He went crashing through to the other side, his limbs soaking wet and flailing as he tried to catch his balance and failed. He tumbled onto the floor, nearly taking Louis’ legs out from underneath him where he stood a few feet back. 

He shrieked as Harry arrived unceremoniously at his feet. A new fit of laughter overtook him as he collapsed onto the floor and clutched his stomach. Harry was lying sprawled on his back on the hardwoods looking up at Louis, his wet hair plastered to his face and tears streaming from his eyes as he cackled.

He rolled over onto his stomach and crawled toward Louis before straddling his legs and pulling him into a disgusting, watery, oily hug. Louis screamed in protest and tried to push him off, but he only tightened his grip and rubbed his soaking wet hair all over Louis’ head.

“Get off me you fucking Sasquatch!” Louis yelled. His body was still shaking with fits of laughter. “Now I’m going to have to shower, too.”

Harry’s giggles died down as he released his grip, sitting back on his heels and wiping the tears from his eyes.

“You are so much fun,” he said, his stomach muscles and cheeks sore. Louis blushed. “Fuck massages. You take all my stress away just by being here.”

“Do you want to have a night in tonight, just you and me?” 

“That sounds amazing,” Harry leaned in to plant a peck to Louis’ cheek before rising to his feet. "Race you to the shower.”

 

******

 

“I like you,” Louis grinned down lazily at Harry. "Really."

He peered up into Louis’ crinkled eyes. His upside-down face looked hilarious from Harry's vantage point where he lay sprawled on the floor, lounging between Louis’ legs with his head resting lazily against his crotch. Music played softly from the television in front of them. 

Louis leaned back against the leg of the coffee table behind him and brought the blunt clasped between his fingers to his lips. He took a long, slow drag. 

Harry tilted his head back to follow Louis’ languid movements, watching mesmerized as he inhaled the smoke and held it in his lungs. Louis leaned forward and brought his mouth down to meet Harry’s. He tipped his chin up and parted his lips, breathing in the smoke as Louis blew it out.

His head was foggy from the weed but his vision and mind were fixed on Louis’ face above him. Harry exhaled, sending a trail of Louis’ secondhand smoke filtering out of the corner of his mouth and directly up into his face.

“I really like you, too,” Harry murmured. "

His lips slowly curved upward into a smile.

“I really, really like you,” Louis said stupidly.

“I’m in like with you,” Harry slurred. 

“I’m in like with you, too!” 

Harry closed his eyes as he felt Louis’ fingers working gently in his hair. The floor was hard but he was so, so comfortable.

“I love your curls,” Louis said softly, taking another long, slow drag. “Love these springy bits the best.”

Harry grinned as he reached his hand up and gestured for Louis to hand him the blunt. Louis placed it in his palm, careful to keep the burning end away from Harry’s skin. 

He felt the thin, soft paper between his thumb and index finger as he brought it to his mouth and inhaled. Louis’ thighs flexed underneath the back of Harry’s head as his delicate fingers worked through his tangled ringlets.

“It’s getting long,” Harry said as he exhaled. “Are you braiding it?”

“French braiding,” Louis corrected him.

“Are you giving me pigtails?” Harry asked. 

He reached his free hand up to feel the intricate braids running all the way from his forehead to the nape of his neck.

“Yes.”

“Is it even long enough to French braid?”

“Yes.”

“How do you even know how to French braid?”

“Lots of sisters. Lots of practice,” Louis hummed. 

Harry handed the blunt back to him, watching as Louis’ pretty lips wrapped around the white paper and inhaled, his eyelashes fluttering shut against his cheeks. He was so beautiful.

“You are so beautiful,” Harry said lazily. 

His head bounced on Louis’ thighs as a coughing fit overtook him. He pulled his hands out of Harry’s hair to cover his mouth.

“This thing is done,” Louis wheezed, turning to flick the roach into the ashtray. "Done done donezo."

He settled back into his spot as both hands resumed their lazy work of braiding Harry’s curls.

“Did you braid your sisters’ hair a lot?” 

His eyes were locked on Louis’ concentrated face above him. He vaguely registered the sounds of the television in the background. More music. He wondered if they were watching MTV.

“Mmm hmm, every night before bed growing up,” Louis murmured. “Well, every night until Lottie got to be, like, fourteen. She was too cool, after that. And the other girls just did whatever she did, so.” 

Harry watched Louis furrow his brow and bite his lip as he tried to gather the short hairs at the base of Harry’s skull. He lifted his head up slightly to give him easier access.

“They would shower and put on their pyjamas and I would braid their hair into pigtails, starting with Lottie first. Mum worked a lot of night shifts, so at least half the time it was just us.”

“They are lucky to have you,” Harry said softly. 

Louis grinned. 

“Yeah, well, it was either that or they went to bed with wet hair and woke up looking really ratchet.". 

Harry knew that he was just deflecting the compliment, but he saw a small blush rising in his cheeks nonetheless. 

“When they would wake up with crazy hair, mum would tell them that Pierre the Midnight Hairdresser visited them in their sleep.”

“Pierre the Midnight Hairdresser?” Harry giggled. “Who is that?”

“You know, when you wake up in the morning and your hair’s, like, all over the place," Louis motioned wildly at Harry's head. "That means Pierre the Midnight Hairdresser came to visit you and did your hair. I think it was supposed to be cute but it was actually quite frightening, a strange man visiting you in the night.”

“Never heard that one before.". 

He loved hearing Louis’ stories.

“I’m not surprised, I’m pretty sure mum made old Pierre up,” Louis said fondly. “Lottie was actually scared of Pierre, so she liked having her hair braided before bed… seeing as it kept him away and all. Then Fiz started to want hers done, too, since Lottie was having hers done, and it could never happen that Lottie was doing something where the Fizzy didn’t immediately want the same thing,” Louis chuckled. “So, that’s how I learned to French braid.”

Harry was so endeared.

“I want to meet them,” Harry said. “Is that alright?”

Louis’ dropped his eyes to meet Harry’s gaze as his mouth split into a huge grin. He dropped his hands from Harry’s hair and reached forward to cup each of Harry’s cheeks, leaning in to press a sweet, upside-down kiss to the tip of his nose.

“I want you to meet them,” he murmured before pulling away. “They will love you. Lottie’s going to be jealous.” 

“Jealous!? Why?”

“My boyfriend is hotter than hers,” he winked. 

Harry guffawed and clapped one hand over his mouth to stifle his fit of giggles. 

“I love it when you make that sound,” Louis grinned. “Such a dork.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever made it for anyone else."

It was the truth. No one made him laugh like Louis.

“I’m sure that’s what you tell all the boys,” Louis said as he shook his head.

Harry felt his fingers dragging against his scalp as his hands tousled the braids, loosening the strands and letting Harry's curls fall freely against his thighs. Louis started up again, this time forming smaller braids like little worms all over his head.

“I’m going for that island look,” Louis explained. “Maybe I’ll throw some beads in here like Monica did on Friends.”

“Are you from the islands?” Harry asked. 

Louis’ hands stopped moving as he looked down at Harry in confusion.

“No?” 

“Because Jamaican me crazy!” Harry yelled, laughing at the punch line before even getting it all the way out. “Get it? Jamaican? Like ‘ya’makin’? Jamaican me crazy?”

“I’m breaking up with you,” Louis shook his head. His face was hopelessly fond. “Your jokes are somehow even worse after you’ve smoked.”

“That wasn’t even a joke!” Harry protested. “That was a pickup line.”

Louis leaned forward and planted a kiss to Harry’s forehead. 

“Doesn’t matter, it was still awful,” he teased. “And honestly, a pickup line? What kind of success rate do those lines normally boast? I can’t imagine that one has worked for you in the past.”

“Are you going to blow me tonight?” 

“Probably,” Louis nodded.

“Then the success rate is currently 100%."

Louis chuckled and brought Harry’s hand to his mouth, kissing each of his knuckles gently.

“Love seeing you relaxed like this,” Louis smiled down at him. “That dimple has been out for hours. It’s huge. Like a canyon. I want to lick it.”

“I think this is just what I needed,” Harry mused. 

He felt Louis bring his knuckle to Harry’s face and gently turn it side to side in his dimple. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the feeling of Louis’ fingers in his hair, his body warm and impossibly comfortable despite lying on the hardwood floor. His thoughts were slow as he let himself relax to the rhythmic movements of Louis’ hands as they danced in his curls. 

He had been so stressed recently, but now he only felt… happy. Calm. Louis always knew exactly what Harry needed. 

Louis. Louis the storyteller. The joke-teller. The funniest person that Harry had ever met. Everything he said was funny. Everything. 

Harry breathed in deeply and wondered what the inside of Louis’ brain looked like. He imagined that it would be a weird place with lots of colors and moving parts and everything would be illustrated like a comic book. A funny place. 

That was the thing about Louis, though… he wasn’t just funny. He was witty. Witty people have to be smart. You have to be smart to be witty and witty people are funny and Louis was funny and witty and smart. And he was kind. 

Harry’s chest warmed as he thought about him talking about his family, taking care of his sisters, French braiding their hair before bed so that the scary midnight hairdresser wouldn’t mess it up overnight. Harry’s chest ached with the thought of young, teenage Louis doing that for his little sisters. Most teenage boys would be too self-absorbed to do something as uncool as braid their sisters hair. Not Louis, though. 

Louis who clearly took on the responsibilities around the house when his mum needed it and, rather than resenting it, seemed genuinely thankful for it. Harry imagined him perched on the edge of his sisters’ bed, talking to them about their day and playing with their long hair, looking soft in his pyjamas as they all got ready for bed. Louis with his tiny, curvy little body in a pair of joggers and a jumper. 

Harry couldn’t get enough of his body. He was so compact and so strong. He remembered Louis playing footie, running around the pitch, his ass bouncing in his white shorts and everyone on the field looking to him for leadership. A natural born leader. Confident, authoritative, naturally commanding of people’s attention. Harry thought about how rare that was. 

And then on top of all of those things, there were layers of complexity to Louis that lay hidden. Layers that Harry was still figuring out. Louis using his humor to deflect compliments. Using self-deprecating jokes to alleviate tension during stressful situations. So complex. So unique.

Harry felt the world shift beneath him. He blinked his eyes open just as he felt a pillow gently slide beneath his head. He looked around in confusion as he watched Louis stand up and head toward the door. He vaguely heard knocking.

“Lou?” he said slowly. “Who’s it? Whos’ there?”

He watched as Louis pulled his wallet out and handed some cash to whoever was on the other side of the threshold, hidden out of Harry’s line of sight. In return, a box of pizza magically appeared in his arms. 

Harry’s stomach growled as Louis smiled and shut the door.

“I thought we were going to cook?” Harry frowned. 

It was hard to be angry when he was fucking starving and there was hot pizza ten feet in front of his face. He sat up and cracked his neck to each side.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t much look like you were in the mood,” Louis teased. “You’ve been knocked out for almost an hour.”

“Seriously?” 

Harry looked down at his watch. It was nearly ten o’clock, which meant nothing to him seeing as he had no idea how long they'd been lying on the floor before he had fallen asleep. 

“Sorry.”

“Are you kidding?” Louis smiled as he walked across the room and sat the box down on the coffee table. “I’m glad you’re relaxing. That’s what I wanted. No stress for you tonight. Should I get plates?”

“No,” Harry shook his head. 

He turned his body and crawled on his hands and knees toward the pizza box. 

“I’m going in face-first. I want to make sweet, sweet love to this pizza. You’re a genius.”

“I got cheesy bread, too,” Louis sat down a smaller, second box beside the first.

“Ughh, yes, talk dirty to me."

Harry reached in and grabbed a slice. Louis laughed from beside him as he tried to pull his own out of the box, still attached to the pie by a long string of hot, melted cheese. Harry stuffed the pizza into his mouth and moaned. 

“This pizza is making me hard,” Harry mumbled.

“Foreplay.” 

He grinned as he pulled a pepperoni off of his slice and stuck it to Louis' forehead. 

 

******

 

Harry was happy and full from the pizza. His brain was still foggy from the weed and his body was completely stress-free. He could fall asleep right here. 

He stretched out on the floor, lying flat on his back as he felt Louis kissing at the skin just above his waistband. His hands worked at Harry’s zipper as he slowly peeled his jeans down his legs. Harry lifted each foot and let Louis pull his pants off, very much enjoying how slow and lazy this all felt. 

He raised his head off of the floor to see Louis climbing back up toward his groin. He slotted himself between Harry’s exposed thighs and looked hungrily down at his half-hard cock. Harry giggled.

“Are you laughing at me?” Louis said slowly. 

His eyes were a bit smaller and redder than usual. He looked very, very high. Harry laughed harder.

“You look like you’re going to devour it,” he said. 

He watched as Louis scooped his dick up from where it lay against his hip. Louis dropped his face closer to the tip and examined it as he stroked gently, the rapid relocation of Harry’s blood causing it to twitch and harden in his grip. 

“Or maybe sing to it,” Harry giggled.

Louis smiled and flicked his eyes up to Harry. He wrapped his fingers around the base of the shaft and held it upright so the tip was close to this mouth. 

“Hey, uhh, is this thing on?” Louis said. “Is this thing… uhh, can I get some volume, please?” 

He tapped the side of Harry’s dick gently as though he were tapping on a microphone. The tip swayed closer to his lips. Harry cackled as Louis began to sing Uptown Funk.

“You’re high,” Harry laughed. 

“No shit.”

He felt Louis place gentle kisses all along the side of his cock before licking a stripe along the underside from the base to the ridge beneath the head. His tongue swirled lazily around the tip, licking the precome that was beginning to leak. 

Harry groaned and bucked his hips up. Everything felt slower, but it also felt more vivid. More sensitive. He felt far away and more present at the same time. 

The scruff from Louis’ beard dragged against the insides of Harry’s thighs as he teased, alternating between licking and kissing to dropping his whole mouth onto his cock and sucking. He stopped suddenly and sat back on his heels.

“I don’t want to do this,” he said slowly. 

Harry lifted his head up from where it rested on the floor. Concern washed over him as he saw Louis frowning at him from between his legs. 

“I want to ride you.”

“Oh,” Harry dropped his head back against the carpet and shut his eyes. 

Louis’ hand found his cock again and stroked, the skin slick from his spit and sending a shiver through Harry. He let out a groan as Louis’ words registered in his slow-moving brain. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Louis smirked.

“Okay. Fuck—“ 

Harry choked out as Louis dove forward and took his cock back in his mouth, sinking forward until the tip was touching the back of his throat. Harry’s hands frantically searched for something to grip to try to prevent his hips from thrusting into Louis’ face, but the rug fibers were too short and there was nothing around them. 

“Fuck, Lou, that feels amazing—“

Louis pulled off slowly and kissed the tip of Harry’s swollen dick before standing up and heading toward his bedroom.

“Be right back!” he chirped as he skipped down the hallway, leaving Harry half-naked and hard in the middle of the living room floor.

A moment passed before he reemerged holding a condom and a purple bottle of lube. Harry watched as he dropped his joggers to the floor and pulled his shirt over his head, leaving himself completely naked as he stepped over Harry’s thighs and dropped to his knees. He straddled Harry's legs on either side, letting the smooth skin of his arse lay pressed against his legs.

“Do you want to lay down so that I can prep you?” Harry asked. 

He began to sit up before he felt Louis press his palm flat to Harry’s chest, pushing him back against the floor.

“No,” Louis said, his voice firm. “I want you to lay there and watch.”

Harry made a low, guttural sound as Louis popped the cap off of the bottle and squirted the purple substance out onto his index and middle finger. He groaned again as he realized that he was going to get to watch Louis prep himself in front of him. 

He dropped his hands to Louis’ thighs where they straddled his legs, rubbing circles into the pale skin with his thumbs. Louis lifted his bum off of Harry and leaned his chest forward, dropping the clean hand to Harry’s abs to stabilize himself as he reached his other between his thighs. 

Harry watched it disappear behind his cock and balls as Louis’ head dropped forward, breathy moans escaping his mouth as he worked. He watched the muscles in his arm flex as he pumped his hand. He was unable to see Louis’ fingers but somehow that made it hotter—knowing what he was doing, seeing and hearing the effects of it, but not able to watch it explicitly. 

Louis moaned suddenly and dropped his forehead to Harry’s abs. He watched as he reached further, a slight sheen of sweat forming across his upper back and shoulders.

“You are so beautiful,” Harry murmured as he stroked Louis’ hair. "So, so beautiful, Louis." 

He reached down and wrapped one hand around Louis’ hard cock, stroking steadily. Louis’ body trembled as Harry’s hand moved.

“Fuck, I’m ready.”

Louis dropped his hand from between his legs and grabbed his discarded t-shirt from the floor beside him, wiping his sticky fingers on the fabric.

“Are you sure?” 

Harry’s cock throbbed where it lay hard and untouched against his thigh. Louis reached his clean hand down and wrapped his fingers around Harry’s wrist, stopping his motions where he was jerking Louis off.

“You’re going to need to stop that or I’m going to come all over your chest in about two seconds,” Louis choked out. “Fuck, I’m ready, need you inside me—“

“Alright, alright,” Harry said soothingly.

Louis rocked himself off his knees and up into a squatting position, his feet pressed into the carpet beside Harry’s legs. He turned his body and repositioned his knees on either side of Harry’s waist, this time with his back facing Harry.

“Your arse,” Harry moaned as he placed one hand on each cheek where Louis hovered over his cock. “It’s a fucking work of art.”

“I want you to watch it as it fucks you.”

Harry was going to die. He reached frantically to the floor next to him and picked up the foil packet, tearing it open and rolling the condom onto his aching and neglected cock. Louis arched his back and reached around with one hand, taking Harry’s dick in his fingers and attempting to line it up underneath himself. 

Harry watched him in amusement as he struggled for a moment before reaching down and covering Louis’ hand with his own, helping guide the tip to Louis’ hole. Louis dropped his head forward to his chest as he sank down slowly, taking Harry in inch by inch. 

Harry braced himself to keep from thrusting up, allowing Louis to control the speed. He focused on the long line from the back of Louis’ neck to the base of his spine, his muscles tense and his body trembling. 

He placed a hand on each of Louis’ hips to help stabilize him as he finally sank the rest of the way down. His ass cheeks met Harry's skin.

“You alright, babe?” 

Harry squeezed Louis’ hips gently, keeping his eyes fixated on the spot where he disappeared into Louis’ arse. He watched Louis’ chest heaving as he relaxed around Harry before gently beginning to move. 

“God Lou, you are so beautiful, every single inch of you.” 

Harry let his hands roam over his cheeks and hips and back as he began to pick up a rhythm. Soft moans escaped Louis’ mouth as he lifted up and sank back down. Harry watched as he dropped both of his hands to Harry’s shins in front of him, using the leverage to work his lower body in slow, heavy circles as he rode Harry.

“Fuck, right there,” Louis gasped out as he worked to direct Harry to his spot. Harry began thrusting his hips up to meet Louis’ ass as he bounced, eliciting a cry from Louis. “Right there, don’t stop, fuck—“

Harry moaned as he felt his orgasm building, the vision of Louis’ ass bouncing on top of him pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He watched as Louis threw his head back, choking out sobs as his body shook. Harry felt the pull in the bottom of his gut toward the base of his spine grow, getting close to the point of no return.

“I’m close, Lou,” he warned over Louis’ cries.

He dropped the back of his head against the carpet and shut his eyes tight as he attempted to stave off his orgasm. He lifted his head and watched as Louis reached up with one hand and began jerking himself off, his sobs turning to long, low groans as he came into his hand, spilling out onto Harry’s thighs and knees below him. 

The feeling of Louis’ hot come hitting his skin as he shouted Harry’s name was too much to bear. Harry bucked his hips up into Louis uncontrollably, his cock desperate as he chased his orgasm over the edge and came hard. Louis’ cries died down but his hips continued to grind as Harry dug his fingernails into Louis’ hips, riding out the waves of his orgasm as he stayed buried deep inside Louis. His entire body trembled. 

He watched Louis hunch forward and drop both hands back to Harry's chins for support. He felt the sticky come smeared across Louis’ palm pressing against his leg.

“You’re filthy,” Harry smiled lazily.

His brain was fuzzy as he ran his fingers across Louis’ lower back.

“You’re still high,” Louis panted, smirking over his shoulder. 

“You’ve got me there.” 

Louis began raising himself up. The stimulation bordered on painful as he eased himself off of Harry’s spent cock.

“Ugh, we just showered, too,” he groaned. 

He rolled over onto his back against the carpet. Harry grinned and kicked him playfully in the rib.

“Looks like we’re going to be extra clean, then,” he teased. “I’m not sleeping next to you with lube-y ass.”

Louis cackled and rolled over onto his stomach before pushing himself up to his hands and knees. Harry smacked his arse hard enough to leave a mark.

“Hey! Rude,” Louis scowled playfully as he hopped to his feet. “See if I ever braid your hair again.”

Harry smiled as he reached up to run his fingers over his scalp. He had forgotten about his hair.

 

******

 

The sheets were cool and crisp and clean as he rolled his body over and curved toward Louis, dragging his fingertips over the soft skin covering his ribs. The mattress squeaked slightly as he moved. He smelled like Louis’ soap. 

Harry could still feel the effects of the weed that they'd smoked earlier dulling his senses. His entire body felt relaxed and happy next to Louis.

“Let’s play the Question Game,” he suggested.

“What is the Question Game?” 

“We ask each other questions,” Harry explained. “Things you want to know about each other. And the other person answers. It’s like twenty questions. But we don’t have to do twenty. And you don't have to answer any you don't want to.”

“Sounds…” Louis smirked up at Harry from where he lay curled into his front, “...less like a game and more like a conversation. Does this by chance end in more sex?”

“Probably.”

“Oh, well, in that case, count me in.”

“What’s your favorite movie?” Harry asked.

“Grease,” Louis responded immediately. 

Harry grinned down at him from where his head was propped up on his arm, resisting the urge to laugh.

“Seriously?”

“Why, what’s wrong with Grease?” Louis looked offended. “I’ll have you know I played Danny Zucko in our primary school production years ago. Had the leather jacket and everything.” 

“No, no, nothing, it’s a great movie. Just not what I was expecting is all,” Harry soothed. He reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Louis’ ear. “Do you still have that leather jacket? We could maybe break it out for a bit of Grease role pla— ouch!” 

Louis punched Harry hard in the middle of the chest as he tried to stifle his giggles. 

“Okay! Okay, no Danny Zucko costumes in the bedroom. Although I would have been willing to do a Pink Lady for you…”

“What’s yours?” Louis asked, ignoring Harry’s teasing.

“Love Actually.” 

Harry leaned down and kissed Louis gently on the lips. 

“You would, you fucking sap. Favorite food?”

“Uhh, that’s a hard one, I love lots of foods.” 

Harry furrowed his brow as he thought. 

“Fruit, probably. Bananas. Yours?”

“Not fruit, definitely not fruit. Pizza or some shit like that,” Louis said. “Favorite place?”

“This bed, right now.” 

Harry smiled mischievously as Louis leaned forward to place a quick kiss on Harry’s jaw. 

“That doesn’t count,” Louis argued.

“Fine. Probably…. Suffolk Coast, maybe? My mum and Gemma and I used to vacation there when I was younger. Haven’t been for years now, though. It’s beautiful.”

“I’ve never been to the sea.”

Harry frowned.

“Never?” he asked. “But it’s not like it’s far away or anything.”

“We didn’t really go on holidays much growing up,” Louis said, his fingers finding Harry’s and squeezing gently. “We didn’t have a whole lot of extra money and stuff… I mean, we weren’t poor, we always had food on the table and a roof over our heads and clean clothes to wear. We just didn’t have a lot of vacation money. Any extra money mum used for me to play footie or the girls to do whatever classes they wanted to do. I’ve always wanted to go, though.” 

He pressed a quick kiss to the tip of Harry’s nose.

“Well we will just have to fix that,” Harry said playfully. Louis smiled and nuzzled his face into Harry’s chest. “Ok, moving on then. Favorite book?”

“Ew, gross, pass, next question."

“Favorite color?” Harry asked.

“Black, probably.”

“Favorite memory,” Harry hooked his thumb under the waistband of Louis’ pants and tugged playfully.

“Oooh, deep. Asking the real questions,” Louis teased, scrunching his face up and rolling over to lie flat on his back. 

Harry watched as he stared up at the ceiling, his brow creased as he searched for his favorite memory.

“Probably when Liam and I went to footie camp together when we were, like, little kids,” he smiled. “That was one of the best weeks of my life. Played footie and ate loads of food and got to hang out with my friends. There was this lake near the camp and every day after we finished playing we would all just go run and jump in still wearing our sweaty clothes. Liam actually got his first kiss there.” 

Louis grinned over at Harry. 

“Well, first kiss from a boy, which is the only one that counts,” he smirked. “He also could barely swim, so every time we jumped in the lake he nearly drowned. Good times, good times.” 

Louis was so beautiful lying there in the shadows, his face happy and at ease as he walked Harry through the memory. He wanted to make Louis feel that way always. Light. Free. Happy. 

Harry raised his body up and rolled over on top of Louis who grunted underneath Harry’s deadweight.

“Hazza,” he groaned, spitting out a mouthful of Harry’s curls. “I’m going to suffocate.”

“I like hearing you talk,” Harry mumbled into his ear. He made no effort to move. Louis stopped struggling beneath him and wrapped both arms around Harry’s torso, his breathing steadying as he relaxed. “I like it when you tell me things.”

“I like telling you things,” Louis said quietly as one hand found Harry’s hair and tugged gently on his curls. 

“I’m going to sleep here,” Harry murmured. 

He pretended to snore as Louis’ protests started back up, his body rocking back and forth in an attempt to dislodge Harry. He started giggling and rolled off of Louis, watching as he gripped his chest dramatically and wheezed on the bed beside him. Louis reached down to pick up one of the pillows from the floor beside him and tossed it directly into Harry’s face.

“I let you sleep in my bed and these are the thanks I get,” he teased.

Harry scooted close to Louis’ side and placed quick, delicate little kisses along his arm and shoulder until he was giggling and turning back into Harry. Harry leaned up and placed a long, sweet kiss to his lips, their mouths working slowly against each other as Louis’ scruff dragged gently across Harry’s chin. 

He pulled back and smiled before rolling over onto his other side, wiggling his arse into the curve of Louis’ body and feeling the weight of his arm come to rest over him. Louis pressed a quick kiss into the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck.

“Goodnight, Hazza,” he whispered.

“Night, Lou.”

 

******  
Sunday, June 21, 2015  
******

 

Harry was walking through a garden.

It was a vegetable garden. The sun was out and the sky was blue and he was walking through a huge vegetable garden that seemed to go on for miles in every direction. 

He looked down, confused, unable to remember how he’d gotten there. He didn’t care.

Broccoli. Bright green broccoli growing on the ground next to him. His boots sunk into the soft earth as he walked. Mud was becoming caked to the soles. He shouldn’t have worn his gold boots. 

He picked his head up and breathed in deeply through his nose, smelling fresh air and the scent of tomato plants and a whiff of something else that was out of place. Cigarettes? Something a bit musky. Something familiar. Something warm. 

He reached down to pick a tomato straight from the vine. He bit into it whole, just like an apple, letting the cool juice run down his chin. 

A bird with bright blue wings hopped across the dirt in front of him, chirping noisily. He seemed like a happy bird. Friendly bird. He had a worm wiggling wildly in his beak as it tried to escape. The bird tilted his head back and swallowed him whole. 

Harry felt happy and sad as he watched; happy that the bird got to eat, but sad that the worm had to die. The circle of life. 

The blue bird looked up at Harry and cocked his head to the side, grinning. Harry grinned back. Bet it would be sick to be able to fly. You could go anywhere, anytime. So sick. He wished he had wings.

He was about to ask the bird where he was going when a gentle breeze blew across the garden and the familiar scent from earlier wafted past his nose. Cigarettes. Musk. Soap. Toothpaste. Warmth. Laughter. Happiness. 

Harry lifted his gaze from the bird to see a figure standing directly in front of him. Louis. 

Harry’s heart warmed.

“Why are you here?” Harry asked. 

Louis was beautiful.

“I was looking for you.” 

Louis smiled back at him. His eyes crinkled at the corners, bright and blue and shining in the sunlight. Blue like the bird. Harry looked back down to see that the bird was gone. He must have flown off. Harry hoped he had a safe flight.

“There was a bird here,” Harry pointed toward the empty dirt. Louis nodded.

He watched as Louis reached down and pulled his gray jumper over his head, exposing his bare, sun-kissed chest and arms. 

“Where’d you get that tattoo?” Harry asked, pointing. 

Louis looked down to his forearm. A compass was etched into the skin.

“It’s a compass. For in case you get lost,” Louis said simply. 

He took a step toward Harry, reaching his arms out for his waist. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

Louis turned his back to Harry and dropped his joggers to the ground. He fell to his knees in the soft dirt as a wispy cloud passed overhead. The filtered sunlight danced on his tanned skin. He was gorgeous.

“What if someone sees?” Harry asked.

He felt a low, forceful pull in his gut. Louis had an amazing arse. 

Harry dropped one hand to his hard cock and rubbed it through his shorts, moaning as the sensation intensified. Louis wiggled his butt in the air in front of Harry, looking back over his shoulder at him.

“We are alone.” 

He winked at Harry before turning to face straight ahead. Harry felt an orgasm beginning to build at the base of his spine. 

He pushed off his shorts and dropped to his knees behind Louis, helpless to stop himself, his urges controlling him completely.

“But I didn’t bring anything,” Harry panted.

Precome dripped from his throbbing cock as he stroked it but, it provided him no relief. He was becoming frantic. He needed more, wanted more, wanted to be inside Louis now. 

“It’s all sorted,” Louis said happily. 

Harry reached his hand between Louis’ cheeks to feel him already slicked up and ready for him. His body shuddered as his cock throbbed. The tension in the base of his spine coiled tighter. He was going to come. Soon.

He lined up behind Louis and pushed in easily, not bothering to take it slow. He met with no resistance as he humped into him over and over again. 

He moaned as he reached one long arm up and placed a palm on the back of Louis’ head, pushing his cheek down into the soft dirt. His ass shook with each of Harry’s thrusts. Still he could find no relief.

Harry grabbed Louis’ arms and held them down beside his torso. He wanted to come. Needed to come. 

The vines from the vegetables twisted between their fingers in the soil. It was a beautiful day for gardening.

“Fuck, Haz,” he heard Louis’ raspy voice choke out. “Fuck baby, you taste so good.” 

Harry’s vision swam and Louis went blurry in front of him. He blinked once, trying to bring his figure back into focus. Louis’ words rattled around in his brain. His cock ached and throbbed as he chased his orgasm. He was so close, but he couldn’t catch it. He groaned and begged. He needed to come.

He heard moaning and sucking as a large, dark cloud passed overhead, sending the garden around them into the shadows. Harry blinked three times as he tried to make out Louis’ figure in front of him, still bucking his hips wildly into him, so close to the edge. 

Only blackness. 

“That’s it baby, you’re almost there,” he heard Louis say from the shadows. 

His hips shuddered as he teetered on the edge of orgasm. He reached out to try to find Louis’ body, but his arms were heavy. If only he could touch him, he could come. He was so close.

He blinked again and sunlight poured in, obscuring his vision for a moment before he was able to register his surroundings. His cock throbbed. The pull at the base of his spine was too much to bear. Fuck. Got to find Louis. Fuck. So close.

His eyes focused enough to register a mess of brown hair bobbing up and down on his groin. Louis was choking out raspy moans around him, sending vibrations through his aching cock. 

“Fuck, Louis, fuck, oh my God,” Harry groaned as he twisted his hands in the bed sheets. He felt Louis’ throat close around the head of his dick. “Oh my God, fuck baby, oh my God—“

Louis moaned around him one more time, sending Harry over the edge as he shot load after load down the back of Louis’ throat. He cried out as his entire body shook, the bed creaking underneath him as he thrusted up into Louis’ mouth. Louis continued to suck him through it as Harry whimpered up toward the ceiling, one arm thrown across his face to shield his eyes from the sun. Holy shit.

“Holy shit,” he said as Louis pulled off his cock, a mischievous grin on his face as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Holy shit, are you for fucking real?”

He reached down to grab Louis under his arms and pulled him up his body. He relaxed into Harry’s chest before kissing him slow and deep. Harry was positive he tasted like stale morning, but Louis tasted like his come, so it was an even trade. 

“That,” Harry smirked as he placed playful kisses all over Louis’ flushed face. Louis giggled under Harry’s assault “That is the absolute best way I have ever been woken up in my entire fucking life. Thank you, thank you, thank you—”

“I thought you might enjoy that.” 

Louis wiggled his eyebrows at Harry and caught his kisses with his lips before draping himself across his chest, his cheek lying flat against Harry’s collarbone. 

“I woke up and saw you sleeping peacefully so I thought, ‘why not ruin that?’” 

Harry grinned.

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

“You talk in your sleep, you know,” Louis smirked. Harry felt Louis’ fingers tracing gentle circles into the skin beside his ribcage. “Mostly incoherent mumbling, but words sometimes.” 

Harry’s dream surfaced in his memory. 

“You kept mumbling ‘dirty, dirty, dirty.’ It was kind of hot.” 

Harry cackled and clapped one hand to his mouth before placing a chaste kiss to Louis’ forehead. 

“I think I was probably saying ‘dirt’, actually,” Harry laughed. “I was dreaming.”

“Oh yeah? About…?” 

“Fucking you in a vegetable patch,” Harry said casually. 

Louis let out a loud laugh, his eyes crinkling up at the corners as his chest heaved against Harry’s. 

“You would,” Louis said, trying to catch his breath. Harry squeezed him closer. “Your wet dreams _would_ be about fucking vegetables.”

“No, it wasn’t the vegetables… it was you,” Harry grinned. “I mean, there were vegetables, obviously, because we were in a vegetable garden and all, but that’s not what was getting me hard.” 

Louis cackled again.

“Well? How was it?”

“Too many vegetables, not enough fruit.” 

Harry smiled as Louis placed a swift smack to his chest. 

“Jesus, I was just joking! You were great, obviously.” 

He felt Louis lace their fingers together under the covers. He nuzzled his nose into Louis’ hair and sighed. 

“You _are_ great, obviously,” Harry said quietly. “Plus, I always have crazy dreams when I smoke.” 

Louis reached his mouth up to place a kiss to the underside of Harry’s jaw before rolling off and hopping out of the bed. 

“Let’s go get breakfast,” he chirped as he pulled on a pair of clean joggers. “I don’t have anything here for you to cook me, anyway.” 

Louis giggled as he took off down the hallway toward the toilet. Harry made no attempt to exit the bed, lying there completely content. 

Harry loved mornings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice.


	11. The Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis gets nervous. Harry gets wine-drunk.
> 
> They both get reckless in a Honda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short little chapter that's at least half smut. Sorry for all the blowjobs.

******  
11.1

THE DINNER  
Saturday, July 25, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

“Do I look alright?” 

Louis frowned. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and tilted his head to the side, pulling down irritably on the hem of his blazer in an attempt to smooth out the wrinkles by the pockets. He should have ironed it this afternoon but he had opted to play video games instead. Good choice.

“You look gorgeous,” Harry breathed against the back of his neck. "As always."

Louis caught his eye in the mirror as he placed a sweet kiss to his cheek. He watched as Harry leaned back and resumed tying his tie.

“You always say that,” he grumbled. “Why won’t these fucking wrinkles come out?”

“I say it because it’s true,” Harry’s voice sounded defensive at Louis’ temperamental response. “Is there something else you would rather I say?”

“I dunno, something useful, preferably." 

He knew he was being snarky but he couldn’t help it. He felt a bit nauseous. 

"Alright, well," Harry turned from the mirror and walked toward the bedroom door, "you can just let me know whenever you're ready to go."

He watched in the reflection as Harry left the room and disappeared down the hallway. His heart sank.

"Haz, come back," Louis called out. "Please."

Harry must have been lingering near the door as it only took him a couple of seconds to reappear. Louis met his eyes in the mirror before dropping his gaze to the floor.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I'm just really nervous. I've never been good with parents."

"I hate that you don't listen to me when i'm complimenting you," Harry said, slowly approaching from behind. "You ask me what I think and then when it's something positive, you don't believe it. I hate it."

“Well if I’m asking then I obviously think something’s wrong. I feel like a fucking penguin in this fucking blazer. I feel overdressed. And these _fucking_ wrinkles won’t lay flat—“

He felt Harry’s hands on either shoulder turning his body around and away from the mirror. He was embarrassed. 

“Stop,” Harry said gently.

He reached one hand to Louis’ chin to tilt up his face. Louis met his gaze and offered up a half-hearted, guilty smile as Harry wrapped both arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled through a face full of fabric.

He sighed and tilted his nose up into Harry’s curls. He smelled like apples. Louis nuzzled into the side of his neck and let Harry stroke his back. 

“I just don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Hey, no, listen to me,” Harry said. “You have nothing to be nervous about. I promise. We are _just_ going to dinner. They can’t wait to meet you. I’ve been talking about you for months. If anything, they'll probably spend most of the night embarrassing me. _I’m_ the one who should be nervous.” 

Louis chuckled and dropped his forehead to Harry’s shoulder.

“I’ve never done this before,” he sighed. “The whole Meet The Parents thing, I mean. I might be terrible at it.”

“There’s nothing to be terrible at.” 

Harry placed a quick kiss to Louis’ temple before pulling back and smiling down at him. 

“Just be yourself. Seriously. I’m not worried. You shouldn’t be either."

Louis smiled and rocked up onto his tippy toes, placing a soft, slow kiss to Harry’s lips. He felt Harry’s hands wrap around his lower back and squeeze his arse. He felt better already.

“You almost ready?” he grinned against Harry’s lips. “Or do you need to primp that hair a bit more? It’s like waiting for a woman, I swear. I feel so straight right now.”

Harry giggled and brushed his hand against Louis' crotch.

“Nope, never mind. Still gay.” 

“Well that didn’t last long,” Harry teased. 

He stepped back to finish adjusting his tie in the mirror. Louis watched his long fingers work as they tugged on the thin, silk fabric, pulling it into the perfect length. He was wearing black slacks, a light gray button-up rolled to his elbows, and a black skinny tie around his neck. 

Louis loved when Harry got dressed up. There was something about his long hair and his tattoos combined with a straight-laced outfit that drove him crazy.

“You look incredible,” he said, leaning up playfully to bite Harry’s neck from behind. “Can’t believe your coworkers get to see this look on you every day. Lucky bastards.”

Harry chuckled as he straightened his tie and turned to look at Louis. He dropped both of his hands to his hips and squeezed.

“You look incredible. I love that blazer,” he smiled. “It highlights your curves.”

“I do _not_ have curves. I have muscles. Big, burly, manly muscles.”

“You do have big, burly, manly muscles,” Harry said soothingly as he walked across the room toward the door. “Big, burly, manly muscles that create sexy, delicate curves.”

Louis huffed and grabbed a pillow off the bed, tossing it directly at Harry’s head before following him out the door. 

Harry snickered as he sashayed down the hallway, shaking his hips in front of Louis as he walked. Louis giggled and chased after him as he attempted to pinch his bum all the way to the entryway of the flat.

He had completely forgotten his nerves.

 

******

 

“Ready?” Harry asked.

One hand rested on the restaurant door and the other on the small of Louis’ back. 

Louis took a deep, stabilizing breath through his nose, focusing on the firm press of Harry’s hand against the dip of his spine. His stomach fluttered nervously as he prepared himself to meet Harry’s family. 

He had never done this before. He had never met a boyfriend’s family. Well, come to think of it, he had never had a boyfriend before. Not one like Harry, anyway. All of this was new territory. 

It was all a bit scary, but somehow, Louis felt alright. Harry was by his side.

“Ready."

Harry pushed the doors open and they walked into the small, dimly lit restaurant. 

“Hi,” Harry said happily to the hostess at the front. “We are meeting a couple of other people, they might already be here--” 

Louis watched as he scanned the room looking for his mum and sister. 

“--oh, I see them, thank you very much.”

Louis followed him past the hostess stand and toward a table where two pretty women sat beside each other. 

The dark haired woman looked up as they approached, a huge smile breaking across her face as she smacked the younger blonde in the arm. Louis felt Harry reach back and lace his fingers between his own, squeezing gently as they arrived at the table. 

“Hello!” Harry grinned. 

He released Louis’ hand to wrap the blonde in a big, warm hug. He pulled back and stepped to the side, pulling the brunette into an equally tight embrace and squeezing. 

Louis hung behind, not wanting to interfere. 

“Mum, Gems,” Harry took his hand and tugged him forward reassuringly. “This is Louis.”

Louis smiled and lifted his free hand in a small wave, feeling very awkward and self-conscious as the two women took him in. He was about to say something when he saw Harry’s mother take two steps toward him and wrap him in a sweet, gentle hug.

“Oh, love, I’m so glad we are finally meeting,” she said warmly into his ear. “Please, call me Anne.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, too,” Louis smiled back, instantly at ease. “Thank you for inviting me along.” 

She released her hold on Louis and rubbed his shoulders, surveying him as he dropped his hand back to Harry’s.

“Of course."

Louis turned to face the blonde standing apprehensively beside Anne.

“Hi,” he reached his hand out tentatively. “I’m Louis.”

She dropped her gaze to Louis’ hand and brought her eyes back up to his face. 

“So mum gets a hug and I get a handshake?” she asked, quirking eyebrow at Louis. 

“Uhh,” his heart stopped as he looked down at his hand. "Sorry, I, uhh--"

He looked back up to see a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. She stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

“Just messing with you,” she said happily. "I'm Gemma. Good to meet you."

Louis exhaled, relieved that he hadn’t managed to offend Harry’s sister within the first five seconds of meeting her.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he nodded. “Don’t think I won’t remember that, either. Payback’s a bitch.”

Gemma laughed as they all took their seats, Harry’s hand immediately finding Louis’ thigh under the table and rubbing reassuringly. Their server appeared with four glasses of water and a basket of bread. 

“So, Louis,” Anne smiled as she placed her napkin in her lap. “Harry says that you’ve known Liam for a long time? I can’t wait to meet him.”

He was caught off guard by the remark but attempted to recover quickly. He hadn’t been expecting them to discuss Harry’s… situation… so openly. Not that it was a taboo topic – Harry had mentioned how supportive Anne and Gemma had both been about it – but he was still surprised to hear genuine excitement in her voice.

“Um, yes, we’ve known each other since…” Louis racked his brain and tried to remember how old he had been when Liam’s family had moved in down the street, “…well, I’m not sure actually. We were young. School age. We’ve been best mates for most of our lives.”

“That’s wonderful,” Anne said. She smiled and reached across the table, patting the top of his hand where it rested by his empty bread plate. She was so kind. It was no question where Harry got his warmth. “Harry has had nothing but good things to say about him.”

“He’s just such a _nice_ person,” Harry said, squeezing Louis’ fingers before reaching across the table to rip off a piece of bread. “Just a really, really nice guy. And he and Zayn are dating, you know.”

“What!?” Gemma pouted as she tossed her napkin into Harry’s face. "You didn't tell me that."

“Gems has always had a bit of a thing for Zayn,” he explained. 

“Jesus, can you blame me?” she asked. “His face looks like it was carved by fucking Michelangelo or something. I think I cried the first time I saw him.”

“You definitely cried,” Harry grinned. “But yeah, he and Liam have been together for a few months now. Well, I guess pretty much since you and I have, well, you know.”

He looked over at Louis and smiled. 

“It worked out pretty great, actually,” he said as he popped a piece of bread into his mouth.

“I’m just glad he’s happy,” Louis reached across the table to grab a pat of butter and spread it around on his bread with his knife. “Zayn’s been so good for him.”

“How so?” Anne asked.

“Uhh, well, Liam’s always been a bit shy." 

Louis' voice was tentative as he considered his words. He didn’t know how much he should say. He didn’t want to talk too much about Liam before Anne and Gemma got a chance to meet him, themselves. He didn't want to sway their opinion of him. 

After all, Liam and Harry were technically brothers. Regardless of what happened with Harry and Louis, Liam would be in all of their lives forever, probably. He didn’t want to do anything to ruin that before their relationship even started. 

“He just got picked on a bit back when we were younger in school and stuff, you know how that goes,” Louis said, trying to keep it casual. “He’s just a really good hearted, sensitive person, and he just likes to stick with what he knows. But Zayn seems to be bringing him out of his shell.” 

He decided to stop talking.

“That’s wonderful! You know, Zayn has always been a little like that, too,” Anne said warmly as she lifted her glass to sip on her water. “A bit of a homebody. Little bit shy. It took him about four years before he’d say more than two words to me, didn’t it, Harry?”

“That’s because he thought you were hot,” Harry smirked. 

“Gross,” Gemma scrunched her face up from across the table. “He was too busy looking at mum to notice me right there in front of him the whooole time. What a travesty.”

Louis laughed and took another bite of his bread, feeling mostly at ease with the conversation by the time their server brought them a bottle of red wine. 

He couldn’t believe that he had been so nervous about this. Both Anne and Gemma were surprisingly easy to talk to, and something told him that no matter what he said about Liam, Anne was the kind of person who would reserve judgment until she met him herself. 

They just seemed like genuinely good people. No wonder Harry turned out the way that he did.

Dinner was pleasant with Anne asking Louis about his family and his hobbies and Gemma ribbing him good-naturedly throughout the meal. Harry stayed mostly quiet but kept one hand resting gently on Louis’ thigh, his thumb rubbing over the fabric of his jeans reassuringly as he answered question after question.

Despite the fact that he had been speaking for what felt like hours, he didn’t feel interrogated. It felt like they were both just very, sincerely curious about him and truly wanted to know the answers. 

Normally, he would feel self-conscious and uncomfortable. Now, here, talking to Harry’s family with Harry by his side, he just felt happy.

Louis caught Harry’s eye as he flagged down their server and ordered a third bottle of wine. His grin was lazy and his eyes a bit glassy, the telltale signs of Harry with a wine buzz. Made sense... he hadn't been talking, so he must have been drinking.

“Ugh, I feel like I’m going to explode,” Gemma groaned, leaning back in her chair and resting her hands on her stomach. “This lasagna is amazing.”

“So is mine,” Harry said. "Best I've had in a while."

“That is not lasagna,” Louis stared pointedly down at Harry’s plate. “There wasn’t even any meat in it.”

“Vegetable lasagna is still lasagna,” he pouted. “And it’s harder to properly make than normal lasagna. You have to cook the vegetables perfectly. I don’t like it when they overcook them. They get all soft and mushy.”

Louis shook his head fondly and squeezed Harry’s hand. Harry liked gross food. Louis didn’t understand why. He probably never would. 

He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to Harry’s cheek, forgetting for a moment that they were sat across from his family.

“Uhh, whoops,” he said awkwardly. He glanced guiltily across the table toward Anne and Gemma, both of whom had huge, stupid grins on their faces as they watched Louis and Harry straighten up and blush. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, love,” Anne said. Her eyes twinkled at the two of them. “I’m just glad to see Harry so happy. I love seeing that smile on him.”

Louis felt his face flush as he looked over at Harry, noticing that his cheeks were equally red as he smiled down at his plate. He had to resist the urge to tell her that he did, too.

“So,” Louis cleared his throat, “what was Harry like as a young boy? I’m envisioning a very strange, very weird child.”

“Harry was the _most_ embarrassing kid,” Gemma grinned from over the rim of her wine glass. "So weird."

“Heyyyy,” Harry said, clearly offended. “Was not.”

“Did he ever get in trouble?” 

“You know, not really,” Anne said thoughtfully. “He was such a gentle kid. Such a good big brother.”

“So you guys didn’t fight?” Louis asked Gemma.

“A little bit,” Harry looked across the table toward his sister. “Not much, though.”

“He _never_ shut up,” Gemma groaned. “Singing all the time, playing his guitar into the middle of the night. Our rooms shared a wall and it was awful. He was very emo.”

“I was just exploring my artistic side,” Harry argued. 

Louis giggled at the image of an awkward, thirteen year-old Harry sitting cross-legged on his bed at three in the morning, strumming at his guitar and writing dark, sad, emo songs. 

“One time he got into trouble and when mum sent him to his room, he wrote her a poem to apologize,” Gemma said devilishly. 

Harry tossed his napkin across the table at her face as she laughed and ducked out of the way. 

“A poem!?” Louis cackled. “That’s gold. Do you still have it?”

“I do, actually. Sorry, love!” Anne said apologetically as she caught Harry’s eye. “Should I not have said that?”

“Let’s just move on. Let’s talk about religion! Or politics!” Harry said, attempting to steer the conversation toward anything else. “Everyone loves talking politics—“

“What did it say?” Louis ignored Harry completely. “Did it rhyme, or was it more free-form? How long was it? So many questions, so little time.”

“If you play your cards right, maybe I’ll let mum show it to you one day,” Harry smirked, shooting a sideways glance toward Louis. 

“I'm looking forward to that. I’ll need a copy, or twelve. Going to want to frame that, hang it on the wall, keep one in a safety deposit box just in case…”

Harry smacked Louis’ arm playfully. 

Harry kept mostly quiet for the remainder of the meal, allowing Louis to chat with his family without interruption. He found that talking to Anne and Gemma was as easy as talking to Harry. Both women were so laid back and gave off such positive vibes that another hour had passed before Louis knew it. He glanced over to find Harry staring at him as Anne called for their check, his smile big and his lips stained red from the wine. He noticed that the bottle in front of him was nearly empty.

“You alright there, Haz?” Louis raised one eyebrow at him.

“Never better,” he grinned. 

His words were slow and slurred. His teeth were stained red, too.

“Did you finish this _entire_ bottle?” Gemma asked incredulously as their server brought the check to the table. “Oh my God, you’re wasted.”

“No, Anne, let me,” Louis reached for the check. 

“You don’t need to do that, dear." 

“Honestly, I was planning on it and I would really like to," he said.

He felt Harry squeeze his thigh under the table.

“Lou, you don’t need to,” he muttered under his breath.

“Please let me,” Louis reached into his back pocket to fish his wallet out of his jeans. “You guys have been great and it really means a lot that you wanted to meet me. Hopefully we can do this again soon?”

“I think we can count on that," Anne winked at him. "I’ll get the bill next time.”

Louis flipped open the leather sleeve and tried not to flinch when he saw the total. He had decided that he wanted to pick up the check back when Harry had mentioned dinner earlier in the week, but it still stung to see the large number at the bottom. 

Louis slid his card into the plastic sleeve and handed the bill to the server as he passed their table. He sent up a silent prayer that it wouldn't get declined.

“Well thank you, dear,” Anne said, smiling warmly at Louis. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Gemma chimed in. “You can pick the restaurant next time.”

Louis dropped his hands to his lap and squeezed Harry’s fingers, smiling at him out of the corner of his eye. Harry swayed a bit as he leaned forward toward Louis, grinning and tucking his chin over his shoulder. He kissed Louis’ jaw as Anne and Gemma pushed their chairs back and stood from their seats.

“Thank you,” Harry murmured into his ear. 

“Of course." 

He kissed Harry’s forehead gently before nudging him up to stand. Louis stood and turned to see Anne smiling at them, her arms already outstretched and ready to pull Louis into a hug. 

“Think I need to get your son home,” Louis laughed over her shoulder as he hugged her back.

“It was so lovely to meet you, Louis,” she said warmly. “See you again soon.”

Louis moved to hug Gemma as Harry said goodbye to Anne. He could see her whispering something into Harry’s ear as she hugged him tightly. He forced himself to look away to keep from eavesdropping and wrapped Gemma up in a hug, thanking her for everything and promising to see each other soon. 

He felt Harry take his hand as he led them from the table toward the front of the restaurant. 

 

******

 

“Can you drive?” Harry asked.

He grinned back at Louis from his spot on the sidewalk, the car keys dangling playfully above his head. He hiccupped and burped halfway through the question, making for a ridiculous and hilarious noise. 

“Whoops! Sorry. Think I might’ve had one too many, myself.”

Louis shook his head fondly and reached up to grab the keys. Harry’s eyes were bright and his lips were stained red from his wine and his dimple was fully exposed and he was beautiful under the light from the streetlamps. 

Louis wrapped his fingers around Harry’s hand and slid the keys out of his grip. He rocked forward on his toes to place a short kiss against his lips. 

Harry was just so special.

“Sure, love,” Louis murmured against his mouth. 

He stepped back and put the key into the lock in the passenger side door, opening it to allow Harry to clumsily climb in. Louis reached over and smacked his ass as he bent down and attempted to sit. He stumbled and caught himself on the dashboard and console before plopping down into his seat.

“Heeeyy!” Harry giggled.

“You know, you’re always going on and on about my arse, but you’ve got a pretty good one yourself, Styles,” he said playfully.

Harry made a scandalized noise as Louis closed the car door. He walked around the car and unlocked his own side, slipping in and settling himself behind the wheel.

“Fuck,” he muttered, reaching his hand underneath the seat in a search of the lever. 

“What’s the matter?” 

Harry watched from across the console, one eyebrow lifted in amusement.

“Nothing, nothing, just one second--" 

“Aw, Lou,” Harry said through a huge grin. “Do you need to scoot the seat up?”

“No,” Louis lied.

“Louuuuuu,” Harry cooed from the passenger seat. “Here, let me help you.”

“No, don’t need any help, it’s fine—” 

Louis’ hand landed on what he thought was the lever. He pulled but nothing happened. 

Harry unfastened his seatbelt and leaned across the console, his long arm reaching under the cushion and pulling up. He released the lock and allowed the seat to slide forward easily.

“Is that far enough?” he asked. “Can your feet reach the pedals?”

“I hate you." 

Harry giggled and leaned back against his headrest. 

Louis turned the key in the ignition and started the car as Harry laughed from beside him and clicked his own seatbelt into place. He pulled the car away from the curb and headed down the dark street toward the highway, reaching up to fiddle with the stereo knobs in search of some acceptable music on Harry’s iPod. He had become quite familiar with Harry’s vehicular music selection by now.

“Thank you,” Harry said. His words were barely loud enough for Louis to hear.

Louis felt Harry’s fingers lace between his own where his hand rested on the center console. Louis’ thumb automatically began rubbing soft circles in the skin on the back of Harry’s hand as he looked over to meet his lazy gaze. He was beautiful.

“For what, love?”

“Being you,” Harry grinned. “Mum and Gemma loved you.”

“You can’t know that. We just left.”

“I do know that,” he argued through his smile. “I could tell. They’re horrible at faking it. But you are just so…” 

Harry trailed off as he squeezed Louis’ hand. 

“You’re just perfect.”

“I am absolutely not perfect,” Louis shook his head. 

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” Harry murmured as he dropped his gaze to where their hands lay intertwined between them. “Fun. Bright. You light up everyone around you just by being yourself.”

Louis smiled and squeezed Harry’s hand, acutely aware of the blush rising in his cheeks. He wondered if he would ever tire of hearing Harry talk. 

“You don’t need any lighting up,” Louis said softly. “You glow.”

He felt Harry untangle his fingers from between his own where their hands rested on his thigh. Louis was about to turn and ask Harry where he was going when he felt Harry’s hand land flush against the zipper of his jeans, palming at Louis’ cock through the fabric. 

He heard Harry unbuckle his seatbelt and lean across the console. He dropped his other hand to Louis’ crotch and worked frantically at the button by his waistband.

“Haz, what—“ 

Louis stopped as he felt Harry’s tongue lathing over his earlobe. He groaned softly as Harry’s mouth dropped to the sensitive skin of his neck, his teeth biting and sucking messily. 

Louis breathed heavily and turned his blinker on, shifting into the slow lane on the dark, deserted highway.

“Keep your eyes on the road and don’t wreck us,” Harry murmured into his ear.

Louis felt the waistband of his jeans loosen as Harry finally got the button undone. His fingers clumsily worked at the zipper as he kissed and licked and sucked at Louis’ exposed collarbone. 

He tried to focus on the road ahead as he felt Harry unzip his jeans and grope at his dick through the fabric of his pants. Louis whimpered. The rush of blood relocating to his rapidly swelling cock was making it very difficult to concentrate on driving. Fuck.

Harry pulled the waistband of Louis’ boxers down and exposed his almost fully hard dick in the dark car. He wasted no time as he began to stroke, dropping his face to Louis’ lap and wrapping his warm, wet lips around the head.

“Fuck, Harry—” 

Louis gripped the steering wheel and pressed the back of his head against the headrest. 

“This is so unsafe—“

“I told you not to wreck and to watch the road,” Harry said indignantly, as though just saying the words would be enough to make them come true. 

That was easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one having his dick sucked.

Harry drunkenly slurped on his cock, his spit trickled down the shaft to where his hand worked steadily, stroking the base and massaging the sensitive vein on the underside. 

Louis shuddered and groaned as Harry took him all the way down to the very back of his mouth, the vibrations from the car creating an almost overwhelming sensation as Harry’s throat opened and closed around the tip. Louis whined and gripped the wheel tighter as he focused on the deserted road, his knuckles turning white as he willed himself to drive straight.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” he panted as Harry massaged his balls with his free hand, his dick fully engulfed by Harry's mouth. 

He heard Harry groan and allowed himself a quick glance down to watch him pull his hand back and rub at his own crotch, his cock clearly hard and needing attention. 

“Fuck baby, right there—“

Harry pulled off slowly, swirling his tongue around the head to lap up the precome that was steadily leaking out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled. 

He removed his hand from his groin and wrapped his fingers around Louis’ shaft, licking and sucking the tip playfully as Louis concentrated on keeping the car between the lines. 

“I just couldn’t wait ‘til we got home, couldn’t fucking wait five more seconds, Lou, you were just so fucking amazing tonight, my family fucking loves you, everyone fucking loves you—” 

His hand picked up speed as he jacked Louis off while he rambled. Louis moaned, longing to reach out and touch Harry, to grab him by the back of the hair and push him back down onto his throbbing cock, but he just gripped the wheel tighter and shifted in his seat instead. 

“You’re just so caring and kind and fuck, Louis, you are just so fucking hot, and you’re mine, and watching you with my family tonight… I wanted to get on my knees for you right there at the fucking table… I thought I could wait ‘til we got home but I just cant—“

Harry sunk back down onto Louis’ dick, taking him all the way into the back of his throat and groaning loudly. The vibrations from the car combined with the low rumble from Harry’s vocal cords pushed Louis closer to the edge as he chased his building orgasm. 

He panted and shuddered in his seat, his hips desperately trying to buck up into Harry but his seatbelt cruelly preventing it. 

Harry moaned again and palmed frantically at his own cock through the front of his jeans. He groaned and whined around Louis’ dick where it bumped rhythmically against the tensing muscles of his throat. 

Louis glanced down quickly to see Harry grinding up wildly against his hand where it gripped and pressed and kneaded desperately at his crotch. 

Realization set in as Louis reluctantly tore his eyes away from Harry to watch the road in front of him. Harry was coming in his pants. Coming. In the car. From blowing Louis. In his pants. 

His brain short-circuited as he thought about Harry being so horny that he couldn’t wait ten minutes until they were home. So worked up that he was getting off in his own fucking jeans while he sucked Louis off in the front seat of his own fucking car. 

The knowledge was enough to send Louis over the edge, his aching cock finding relief as he shot load after load down the back of Harry’s throat, his entire body shaking as he came. He struggled but kept his eyes on the road and the wheel pointed straight ahead, his moans and breathy sobs loud in the silent car around them. 

“Oh my God, fuck, Harry, please, yes—“

Harry moaned deeper and lower as he shuddered around Louis, still feeling his own orgasm as Louis cursed and dug his fingernails into the steering wheel. His dick pulsed as he finished, his entire lower body trembling as Harry whined quietly from his lap. 

His muscles relaxed as Harry slowly pulled his mouth off of his dick and straightened up. He leaned back heavily against his own seat and winced.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned, his voice raspy and gruff. “My fucking back… that was not a good angle.”

Louis glanced sideways to see Harry’s tear streaked face as he reached around to massage his spine, his chest still heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Having your mouth fucked while leaning across the front seat of a Honda was hard work.

“You,” Louis shook his head disbelievingly as he reached down to tuck his dick back into his pants, “you are fucking mental, do you know that?”

Harry grinned lazily and wiped Louis’ come from the corner of his mouth. Louis made a small, pathetic sound as he watched him suck it off of his thumb seductively. God, he was beautiful.

“You loved it,” he said playfully, licking each of his fingers one by one as Louis forced himself to continue driving. 

He put his blinker on for the exit to Harry’s flat.

“You’re lucky I’m such an excellent driver,” he said. 

“You’re an atrocious driver,” Harry argued. “We’re lucky to be alive. And I’m not stupid, by the way, I know you were aiming for those potholes.” 

“Not my fault that our roads are in such a deplorable condition,” Louis smirked. “Not my fault… but I will gladly reap the benefits when your mouth is wrapped around my cock.” 

Harry giggled.

“Ugh, I feel disgusting,” Harry scrunched up his face as he looked down at his crotch. “Drive faster, I need to change these pants.”

“Sorry, the journey is taking a bit longer than normal on account of me having to drive substantially under the speed limit to avoid killing us both,” Louis said dryly. “We’ll be there in two minutes.”

Harry reached across to grab his hand and laced their fingers together. He leaned over and dropped his heavy head against his shoulder. 

“Thank you for tonight,” he said. “Means a lot to me. And I know mum and Gemma enjoyed it.”

“Thank you for wanting to introduce me to them,” Louis said quietly as he turned his head slightly, placing a kiss into Harry’s hair. “That means a lot to me.”

He felt Harry smile against the side of his neck, his lips swollen and his grin lazy as Louis pulled into the parking space in front of his building. He turned the car off.

“Stay with me tonight?” Harry asked.

Louis smiled at him before opening his door to climb out.

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice.


	12. The Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets wet. Louis gets wet.
> 
> They both get deep.

******  
12.1

THE FESTIVAL  
Sunday, July 19, 2015

HARRY  
******

 

“Are you wearing jorts?” 

Harry heard Louis' voice before he even had time to shut the door.

“Wait… cutoff jorts?”

He glanced over to where Louis sat on the couch with one eyebrow raised, surveying Harry’s outfit. 

He turned and removed the small key with the leopard print pattern from the doorknob and shut it gently behind him. Louis had given him a key to his flat the previous week, specially designed with black and tan spots all over it. 

It currently sat at the top of the list of Harry’s most prized possessions.

“We’re going to a music festival, Lou,” he looked down at his jean shorts and smoothed out the crinkled denim. “When in Rome, and all that.”

“You look like a farmer,” Louis giggled. “You look like you should be out plowing the fields.” 

Harry watched as he tossed the blanket in his lap off to the side and stood up, smiling fondly. 

“You look ridiculous. I love it.”

“Wait, are _you_ wearing jorts?” 

Harry pointed at Louis’ own outfit as he approached him. 

“They are! You’re giving me shit and you’re wearing them, too!” Harry argued, crossing his arms. Hypocrite.

“These are different,” Louis glanced down at his shorts. “These are cuffed. These are _fashion_.”

Harry grinned and reached up to wrap both arms around Louis’ shoulders. He pulled him in close and pressed a slow, deep kiss to his lips. 

“Missed you last night,” he murmured into Louis' ear as he gently swayed them both side to side. “I’m starting to have trouble falling asleep alone.”

“I know what you mean,” Louis sighed dramatically. He linked his hands together in the small of Harry’s back as he nosed at the side of his neck. “It’s so hard for me to sleep without a face full of your curls suffocating me.”

Harry chuckled and dropped his hands to Louis’ arse, smacking each cheek playfully before pulling away. Louis giggled and took off toward the kitchen. Harry followed close behind.

“It is getting a bit long, I suppose.” 

He frowned as he reached up and ran his fingers through his tangled hair. The ringlets were long enough to sweep his shoulders when not held back in a bun. 

“Simon keeps making comments about how unprofessional it is. I just really don’t want to cut it,” he said sadly.

“Will he fire you for it?” Louis asked, smirking as he pulled a beer out of the fridge. He held one up at Harry. “You want one?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Harry reached toward Louis and grabbed the bottle from his outstretched hand. “And I don’t think he’ll fire me for it. It’s not like I have to go to court or whatever. Most of what I do is deskwork and depositions in our office. I think it’s just that he doesn’t like it.”

“Well fuck him, then." 

He watched as Louis popped the cap off of his bottle and took a sip before reaching up to tug on Harry’s curls.

“It makes you feel good and it’s not hurting anyone,” he said. “If you decide you’re going to go to law school and all that jazz, you can cut it then. Or if Simon threatens to fire you over it. Otherwise, I say fuck it and let it grow. Let it grooow, let it groooooow—”

Harry giggled and sipped on his beer before leaning in to kiss Louis. He sighed and dropped his back against the counter next to the refrigerator, swirling the beer around in the bottle in his hand.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing,” Harry said, his brow furrowed as he took a long sip. “Getting fired.”

“Is it getting worse?”

Louis moved into Harry’s space in front of him. Harry watched as he sat his beer on the counter and placed both hands on Harry’s waist, rubbing his thumbs in comforting circles. 

“We haven’t talked about it in a while. I kind of got the feeling that you didn’t want to.”

“I didn’t,” Harry frowned. “I mean, what’s the point? Talking about it won’t change anything. Talking about it won’t make it better.”

“No, I guess not,” Louis agreed, pursing his lips. “But not talking about it won’t make it better, either. I think you’re just avoiding dealing with it and hoping it fixes itself.”

Harry laughed dryly and took another sip of his beer before wrapping Louis up in a hug and squeezing tight. 

“Got me all figured out, don't you,” he joked half-heartedly. 

“I figured you out on day one." 

Harry felt Louis place a chaste, closed-mouthed kiss to his cheek before burying his face in the side of his neck.

“I know it’s not going to go away,” he said quietly. “I’m just still trying to figure out what I’m going to do. Don’t want to be a lawyer, don’t know what I want to be, don’t even know how to figure it out—”

“Babe, Haz, listen,” Louis rubbed his back soothingly as he tipped his face up and met Harry’s eyes. “If you don’t want to go to law school, that’s okay. You don’t have to. It’s not too late. If you don’t know what you want to be, that’s okay, too.”

Harry sighed.

“You don’t have to know. You have the rest of your life to figure that out. And if you’re really that miserable at your job, maybe you should seriously start thinking about finding something else. Even if you don’t make as much money or whatever… if you’re miserable, no paycheck is worth your happiness.”

Harry’s heart swelled as he looked down at Louis. His face was so earnest as he spoke. He was always encouraging, always supporting.

“Thanks, Lou,” Harry said.

He leaned in and rubbed the tip of their noses together affectionately. Louis smiled back at him, his eyes crossed from how close their faces were. 

“Maybe I’ll start looking for something else. Maybe I’ll become an exotic male dancer.”

“Excellent,” Louis grinned. "I am fully supportive of that decision."

He leaned up and gave Harry a quick peck before grabbing his beer and heading toward the couch. 

“So, how did last night go? I was asleep when Liam got home.”

“It was good, he’s such a good guy,” Harry tossed his empty bottle in the bin beside the counter and reached into the fridge for another. “Getting to know him is crazy. We’re so different… it’s weird to think that we are related.”

He followed Louis into the den and plopped down on the couch beside him, swinging his long legs up to drape them across his lap. He watched as Louis dropped his hands to Harry’s shins and absentmindedly tugged on his blonde leg hairs.

“Did you talk to him about… you know… the thing?” Louis wiggled his eyebrows excitedly.

“Yeah,” Harry grinned sheepishly, taking a sip of his beer. “Apparently his parents had already mentioned it to him.”

“Really?” 

Louis looked surprised, which in turn surprised Harry. He had expected that Liam would have talked to Louis about it.

“Li didn’t mention it."

“Oh,” Harry frowned. “So does he not, like, talk to you about all of this?”

“All of what?”

“Our situation,” Harry said. “Me, Liam, his parents, my parents, whatever.”

“Oh, uh, not really, actually,” Louis pursed his lips. “I haven’t really asked, either. It’s kind of strange. He used to tell me everything, you know? But I kind of feel like this is…”

Louis trailed off as he took a sip of his beer.

“I kind of think this one is between you and him,” he said, looking over at Harry. “And that he’ll tell me if he wants me to know.”

“I don’t want your relationship with him to suffer because you’re in a relationship with me. That's not right." 

Harry scowled and laced his fingers between Louis’, squeezing gently. He felt guilty.

“I think he just feels like certain things are for you to know before he’ll tell me," Louis said. It sounded more like he was thinking out loud for himself rather than trying to convince Harry of anything. “Which, I totally get. It’s your life and I shouldn’t know things about it if you don’t know those things first.”

“Like what?”

Louis frowned and sipped at his beer, remaining silent for a few moments. His eyes shifted between whatever movie was playing on the telly and his hand resting on Harry’s lap below.

“I dunno,” he mumbled. “I mean, I have questions and all, but I feel like they’re not for me to ask.”

“You can ask me,” Harry squeezed his hand. “And if I know the answers, I can tell you. That way you'll only know the things that I already know, so you won’t have to feel weird about it.”

Louis bit his lip and considered it. He took a sip from his beer and smiled.

“Seems fair,” he said. “I don’t think Liam would have an issue with that.”

“I don’t think so either,” Harry smiled.

“So, like, the main thing I’ve been wondering is like… why? I mean, why did they decide to place you for adoption but then just a few years later they had Liam and they kept him. I know Liam probably has the same question but I don’t know if his parents have told him—“

“Money,” Harry answered simply. “He asked them. They told him. Apparently they were going through some really bad times. Like, really bad.”

Louis nodded and refocused his attention on the television.

“They were about to lose their house, they were both out of work. It was awful. And then they found out that they were pregnant, and they knew there was no way they could have a kid, so they had to make a hard decision. But a couple of years later they had both gotten jobs, gotten back on their feet, so when Liam came along they were just, like, in a better situation or whatever. Ready to be parents.”

“Hmm,” Louis hummed. “I never knew that. I didn’t even know they had ever had money problems. They’ve always seemed so… stable.”

“Liam didn’t know either." 

“Bet that was a hard choice for them to make,” Louis said sadly. 

“Yeah, Liam said they got kind of emotional telling him about it,” Harry said. “I get the feeling that doesn't happen often. You know, hearing that made me feel… a lot better. I had wondered my whole life ‘why,’ and now I know, and it’s actually…” 

Harry trailed off as he tried to find the words. 

“I dunno, I think it was brave. Making a hard decision like that… because they wanted the best life for me.”

He felt Louis squeeze his fingers where they rested lazily against his thigh. 

“You said that they had been talking about you guys meeting,” Louis said. “Are you going to?”

“Yeah, I think soon. Liam and I talked about it last night. They’re leaving for the States next week for the entire month of August to visit his sister, so I think maybe sometime in September." 

“You nervous?”

“Yeah,” Harry admitted. “Although, less so now than I was before. More excited than nervous, now.”

Louis squeezed his hand and lifted it to his lips before pressing a sweet, slow kiss to his knuckles. 

“Can I do anything?” he asked.

“Just keep being you,” Harry leaned up and gave him a kiss. “You’re always so supportive. Thank you.”

“Of course.” 

Louis' phone buzzed gently on the cushion beside him. He glanced down at the screen as Harry distractedly watched whatever cartoon was playing on the telly, finishing the last of his beer and placing the empty bottle on the coffee table.

“They’re here,” Louis said. 

He gently smacked the fronts of Harry’s shins before slipping his palms under his calves and lifting them up. 

“Apparently Niall went ahead and picked up Zayn and Liam on the way, so they’re all waiting downstairs.”

“Excellent,” Harry grinned.

He swung his legs off of Louis’ lap and stood up, stretching his back and heading toward the door. He grabbed his keys from the table in the entryway and waited for Louis to slip on his old Vans before taking off down the corridor toward the stairwell. 

“Haven’t been to a music festival yet this year,” he said as Louis opened the front door to his building. "I'm pumped."

The sunlight warmed his face as he followed Louis out onto the sidewalk and scanned the parking spaces for Niall’s car. 

“It’s sunnier than I was expecting,” he frowned. “I wonder if I should have packed some sunscreen for us. Or maybe we should have at least worn hats.”

“There’s Niall,” Louis pointed at a space about two hundred yards down the street from where they stood. “And you _would_ be worried about sunscreen. Such a mother hen. Besides, you’re going with me, which means it’ll probably start raining the second we get there, anyway.”

 

******

Harry pulled the soaked bandana down around his neck and brushed his wet curls off of his face. He watched as car after car sped by on the highway in front of them, raindrops streaking down his cheeks as he slid the fabric back into place to hold the limp strands of hair out of his eyes. 

“Alright… so, do any of you know how to change a tire?” he asked the group. 

He received four blank stares in response.

“Technically, I know how,” Louis answered. “Well, I know how in theory. Mum talked me through it once."

“That sounds promising,” Zayn grumbled.

“Sorry mate, I’ve got no clue, me’self,” Niall shrugged. “Oh, actually, I do know something! There's a spare tire in the trunk, I think.”

“Very helpful information," Louis said sarcastically. 

“Why don’t you guys just sit in the car,” Harry suggested. “That way at least you won’t get completely soaked.” 

He glanced toward the back end of the car where Louis was rummaging around in Niall’s open trunk. 

“I’ll go help Louis.”

“Is this something?” Louis called out, removing a long metal rod from the back of the car. “Like, some sort of tire-changey tool? Oh, wait, never mind. Just a golf club.”

Harry sighed and walked over to Louis as the rest of the men piled back into the vehicle. Cars flew by just a few feet away, honking every now and then as they passed. 

“Well, look at the bright side," Louis grumbled, "at least if we can’t change this tire and we’re stranded out here forever you can hit me in the head with this golf club and kill me."

“The tire iron will be long and straight but I think there should be, like, a little hole on the end to hook around the lug nuts,” Harry reached in and pushed a pile of clothes out of the way. "Let me know if you see anything like that."

“Oooh, lug nuts,” Louis wiggled his eyebrows as he dropped the club back into the trunk and resumed his search. “Aren’t we a regular mechanic?”

Harry chuckled as he pulled up on a handle on the floor of the trunk to expose the spare tire underneath. The rain fell steadily around them as they rummaged around in the compartment, removing a tire iron and jack from where the spare was stored.

“I think this is all we need,” Harry said.

He shut the trunk to prevent the rain from soaking the interior of Niall’s car and led Louis around to the side of the vehicle, kneeling down on the pavement in front of the flat.

“So, we take that thing,” Louis pointed at the jack, “and put it up, like, under here,” he stuck it underneath the undercarriage of the car, “and it will, like, pick the car up, right?”

“Something like that.”

Harry watched as Louis pushed his soaking wet fringe out of his eyes and started cranking the handle. Harry held the jack in place while he worked, his eyes fixed on the muscles in Louis’ arms as they flexed and relaxed, flexed and relaxed, repeating the motion as he jacked up the car. 

Raindrops rolled down Louis’ exposed, tan skin and over his wrists before falling to the pavement below. His chest heaved as he turned the handle, his wet hair falling back into his face as the rain picked up around them. 

They were soaked.

“You know,” Harry said, unable to tear his eyes away from Louis’ arms, “your arms would look amazing with some tattoos.”

“Oh yeah? What are you thinking?”

“I dunno, maybe a pretty flower, maybe 'HARRY' in cursive across your bicep..."

Louis chuckled as he dropped his hand from the jack and took a quick break, glancing down at his forearm and then up to meet Harry’s eyes.

“Never really thought of myself as a tattoo guy,” he smiled, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees while catching his breath. "Never really had the desire. Although, I’ve got to admit, they’ve grown on me a bit.”

“Can I take credit for that?” 

Harry smirked as Louis reached forward and resumed cranking.

“Oh, I dunno, could be,” he said playfully, winking at Harry as he flicked his soaking wet fringe out of his eyes. “You, or possibly one of the many other tattooed boyfriends I’m juggling. I’ve got one for each night of the week, you know.” 

Harry giggled and pinched his love handle.

“You know, believe it or not, this isn’t exactly the carefree, fun day that I had envisioned for us,” Louis said with a grin. 

Harry noticed that his eyelashes were clumped together from the raindrops that were catching on the ends before falling to his cheek below as he blinked. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at Harry from his spot crouched beside him on the pavement. 

“Sorry.”

“Are you kidding?” Harry snickered. “I get to watch you do physical labor… in the rain. I could do this all day. Besides, the only gig I _really_ don’t want to miss is Bombay Bicycle Club and they don’t go on ‘til later, anyway. We’ve got plenty of time.” 

Louis smiled at Harry as he finished jacking up the car. Both men rose to their feet and stretched their backs while examining the spot where the tire hung suspended from the ground. 

He watched as Louis leaned down to pick up the tire iron, looking back and forth between the tool and the wheel in confusion.

“Uhh, okay,” Louis murmured. “So now we have to like, take the tire off. With this… thing.”

“Yeah,” Harry reached out and grabbed the tool from Louis and stepped toward the car, locking the end around one of the lug nuts and attempting to turn it. “I think you have to like, turn it—“ 

Harry grunted as the tool refused to move. 

“Shit. Hold on—” 

“Maybe just push here—“ 

Louis put both hands on the middle of the metal rod and pushed while Harry leaned all of his weight onto the end. The tool didn’t budge. 

“Fucking… stupid… fucking… tire,” Louis huffed out as both men threw all their weight into attempting to move the tire iron. “Here, let me try something.”

Harry sat back onto the wet pavement to catch his breath, abandoning any attempt at remaining dry as his clothes were soaked straight through to his skin. He watched as Louis stood up and surveyed the scene in front of him before placing both palms on the hood of the car for balance. He stepped up onto the tire iron where it hung from the stubborn lug nut.

“Uhh, Lou?” Harry laughed as he watched Louis’ arse jiggle as he bounced up and down on the tool. “I don’t think that's how you're supposed to do it—“

He watched as the lug nut finally gave way under Louis’ weight, turning suddenly and sending Louis stumbling sideways off the metal rod. 

“See?” he grinned as Harry stood up and grabbed the end of the tool, turning the now loose nut and freeing it from the hubcap. “Easy peasy.”

“I’m impressed.” 

Harry smiled as he fastened the end of the tire iron onto the next lug nut and repeated Louis’ technique, steadying himself with both palms on the hood as he jumped up and down onto the metal rod. The nut loosened easily after just a few bounces. 

“I had no idea that you were so talented.”

“Full of surprises,” Louis smirked.

They finished changing the tire mostly without incident as the rain finally slowed down around them. They threw the ruined one back into the compartment in the trunk and climbed into the car, soaked and exhausted.

“Are you sure this thing is safe to drive on?” Liam asked. “Didn’t really look like either of you knew what you were doing—” 

“Oh, sorry Liam, did our automotive expertise not live up to your expectations?” Louis said dryly. “I had no idea you were such an expert, why didn't you say something?"

Louis sat crammed in the middle of the backseat between Harry and Liam, with Zayn stretched out comfortably in the front beside Niall. Harry glanced sideways to see Liam smiling to himself as Louis continued to rib him. 

“If the tire falls off halfway there, I take zero responsibility,” Harry said. 

Louis giggled and dropped his soaking wet head to Harry’s shoulder. He slipped his hand into Harry’s palm where it rested against his thigh as Niall pulled the car off of the shoulder of the road and back onto the highway, heading north toward Victoria Park.

 

******

 

Harry knocked his hip into Louis’ beside him, giggling as he watched beer slosh up and over the edge of the cup and onto his hand. Louis met his gaze and stuck his tongue out as he closed into Harry’s space and rocked up on his tiptoes to place a sweaty, wet kiss to the underside of his jaw. 

Harry wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed his lips into his hair, fully dry by now from spending the afternoon listening to music under the warm sun. 

They were three songs into Bombay Bicycle Club’s set. The sun was setting behind the trees and the beer was thrumming in Harry’s veins as Louis tucked closer into his side. 

“This is amazing!” Harry shouted over the music. Louis tilted his face up, grinning lazily at him as his body moved rhythmically with the beat. “Thank you for inviting me,” Harry said, leaning down and kissing Louis’ nose.

“Thank you for coming," Louis smiled back.

He turned his attention toward the stage and cheered loudly, stepping in front of Harry in an attempt to see around the tall man standing in front of him. 

“Your hair is a disaster, by the way,” he shouted over his shoulder to Harry. “Thank God for that headscarf.”

Harry reached up and felt his tangled curls knotted together at the ends from where the rain and wind had whipped them earlier. He didn't care. 

“Wash it for me later?” he cheekily murmured into Louis’ ear.

“Only if you’ll let me braid it before bed.” 

“Deal,” Harry grinned.

 

******

 

The rest of the evening felt surreal.

The rain shower from earlier had dulled the summer heat, bringing with it a cool breeze as the sun set and night crept over the horizon. The stars were bright in the dark sky as loud music poured through the park. 

Harry had been pressed close to Louis for hours, their bodies swaying and moving together to the beat. Zayn and Liam were crowded together to his right and Niall was off flirting with a redhead he had spotted in line at the beer tent earlier. The crowd pulsed together as one; hundreds of bodies packed in tightly on the soft grass as the smell of beer and sweat and cigarettes and weed wafted through the air.

Harry stepped up behind Louis and ground his crotch against his arse. He dropped his mouth to the dip of his collarbone and bit playfully. 

Louis rolled the back of his head against Harry’s chest and shoulder, exposing the side of his neck for him to kiss. Harry dragged his tongue from the top of Louis’ shoulder up the side of his throat to the sensitive skin behind his earlobe, feeling Louis’ body shudder pressed against his front. 

His dick twitched as he ground again against the back of Louis’ shorts. He tasted salty from the day’s sweat. 

“Love the way you taste,” he purred into Louis’ ears as they moved, his arms wrapped around his chest and beer sloshing in his half-empty glass. “Can’t wait to get you home, get you out of these clothes, lick you head to toe—“

“I’m disgusting,” Louis smiled. 

His head tipped lazily backward as he let Harry support his weight.

“I don’t care,” Harry ground his hips again as his half-hard cock pressed against Louis’ arse. “I love it. Love your smell. Your taste. Cant wait to get you ho—“

“Jesus, mate, we’re standing right here.” 

Harry heard Liam’s voice carry over the music from beside him. He looked over to see both he and Zayn shaking their heads in their direction. 

“There’s, like, ten minutes left. Get it together.”

Louis giggled and lifted his weight off of Harry, standing up straight as Harry released his hold on Louis' chest and attempted to discreetly adjust his pants to hide his growing bulge. He breathed in Louis’ scent as he lifted his beer to his lips, his head swimming pleasantly from the alcohol. His blood was warm and his was heart full. 

He watched Louis’ strong, compact body dancing happily to the music, his brown hair bouncing around wildly and tousled from how it had haphazardly dried after the rain. This loud, bright, wonderful person who had come into his life unexpectedly and changed it. Changed it for the better. 

Harry watched Louis as he laughed loudly at something Liam said. His head was tilted back and his fist was covering his mouth and his blue eyes were crinkled adorably at the corners. Happy and vibrant and perfect. 

Harry’s chest ballooned with warmth as he closed in behind him. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders and kissed into the back of his messy hair. 

Harry knew what he was feeling. He’d known it for a while. 

 

******  
12.2

THE FESTIVAL  
Sunday, July 19, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

“Oh my God,” Louis gasped. 

His thighs slammed into the armrest of the couch as Harry pressed up behind him. He felt Harry’s hands reach underneath the hem of his tank and pull the fabric over his head in one fluid motion. His big palms pushed forcefully into the center of Louis’ back, bending him forward over the side of the couch. 

“Fuck, Harry, God—“

He felt Harry’s hand on the back of his head, pushing his face downward into the cushion.

“This alright?” Harry grumbled. 

His voice was low and gruff and dangerous and sent a shudder through Louis’ body that went straight to his cock. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he rasped. His cheek dragged against Stan’s stupid fucking wine stain on the couch cushion. “Get on with it—”

Harry ground up against Louis’ arse and dropped his lips to the back of his neck, biting at the skin. Louis whimpered and tried to grind against the arm of the couch to generate some friction for his aching cock. 

He had been hard the entire ride home from the Citadel Festival. Shit, he had been hard since halfway through the encore.

Harry’s wandering hands in Niall’s backseat had not helped.

He felt Harry’s thumbs slip under the waistband of his shorts to pull them and his pants down easily. They fell to the floor together where they pooled around his ankles. 

Harry smacked one hand hard against Louis’ bare arse. His skin stung and felt electric from the unexpected contact as he cried out and buried his face into the crook of his elbow.

“There’s lube,” Louis panted as Harry fumbled with his own hideous shorts behind him. “There’s lube in the drawer—“

He heard Harry reach into the drawer in the coffee table and pull out a small packet of lube.

“Are there condoms in here?” Harry asked as he rummaged around frantically. 

Louis grunted and reached over, sliding his hand in and feeling for what he knew was buried somewhere inside. 

“Fuck, can we like, talk about not having to use these fucking things anymore at some point?”

“Huh?” Louis' fingers closed around the foil packet and handed it over his shoulder to Harry. “Oh, you mean—“

“I’m not fucking anyone else, I don’t _think_ you’re fucking anyone else,” Harry ripped the packet of lube open behind him. “I have zero plans to fuck anyone else, and I don’t want to have to fuck you with condoms anymore—“

“Yes, please yes,” Louis begged as he reached backward to search for Harry’s hand. He felt Harry grab his wrist before linking their fingers together and bending forward to kiss the base of Louis’ spine. “Let’s go together, let’s go after this—“

Harry laughed and kissed his way down toward Louis’ love handle, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin. He slipped his slick fingers between Louis’ cheeks and inserted one gently. Louis gasped and gripped the couch cushion as he felt Harry pump his finger in and out, his mouth working over Louis’ lower back and hips.

“Don’t think the clinic is open at eleven o'clock at night,” Harry giggled through the kissing. “We can go first thing tomorrow, though.”

Louis smiled into the crook of his elbow as he felt Harry insert a second finger, crooking his knuckles and stroking Louis’ walls in search of his prostate. He shuddered and reached his left hand down toward his throbbing dick, stroking in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure.

“No,” Harry growled.

He reached up and wrapped his fingers around Louis’ forearm, yanking his hand away. Louis whined at the loss of contact, precome dripping from the tip of his dick where it dragged against the fabric of the couch. 

“No touching.”

Louis moaned and bit the skin of his forearm as Harry inserted a third finger, working lazily but purposefully as he pushed in deeper and deeper. Louis cried out as he felt Harry hit his prostate, his cock aching where it lay hard and untouched. 

“Shit, I’m ready, fuck, want you to fuck me,” Louis begged.

His chest heaved as Harry scissored his fingers around and slicked him up. 

“Please, Haz, please—“

“Shh, alright."

Harry kissed the back of Louis’ neck as he removed his fingers, giving his arse a quick and hard smack before wiping his knuckles on his discarded shorts. Louis heard him rip open the foil packet. He breathed heavily into the couch and forced his lower body to relax. 

“You ready?” 

Harry’s voice was gruff. 

Louis wiggled his arse and nodded his head, inhaling sharply as he felt Harry push inside. He stopped for a beat to allow Louis to relax around him. Louis moaned into the couch, waiting for the pain to subside before nodding twice to let Harry know that he could push further. 

A few moments passed of pushing and waiting before he finally felt Harry’s thighs hit the skin of his ass. He was trembling, but the pain was already turning to pleasure as he relaxed around Harry.

“Move,” he gasped.

He moaned as Harry pulled out slowly and pushed gently back inside. He needed more. 

“Harder, Haz, please, fuck—“

Harry pulled out and slam back into him, his legs shaking as he repeated the motion again and again. Louis cried out and dug his fingernails into the worn fabric of the couch, his body bent completely in half over the armrest as the old frame creaked and groaned in protest under the weight of the two men. 

“Don’t want to break the couch,” Harry grunted. 

He gripped Louis’ hips tighter, attempting to stabilize his body as he pounded into him from behind. Louis whined and buried his face into his elbow. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes as his thighs trembled. 

“Doesn’t – sound – good,” Harry panted.

“Fuck the couch,” Louis cried out.

He reached his left hand back and wrapped it around Harry’s wrist, digging his fingers into the sweaty, soft skin as he felt Harry’s wild pulse in his veins. 

“Need an excuse to buy a new one anyway… oh, fuck, right there—“

Louis heard Harry moan before feeling his open palm make contact with his arse, sending a sharp, stinging pain across his skin. The loud slapping sound registered in Louis’ ears and shot straight to his aching cock. 

He cried out and grabbed frantically at the couch cushions as Harry smacked and rubbed the same spot repeatedly, his skin becoming more and more inflamed with each contact. 

“I’m close,” Harry panted. “Oh my God, Louis, fuck—“

Louis felt his own orgasm building between his legs as precome leaked steadily from the tip of his throbbing cock where it lay pressed against the couch cushion in the nook of the armrest and seat. Tears leaked steadily from the corners of his eyes as he dropped one hand to his dick and began stroking, his muscles tensing and body shuddering as he climbed closer to the peak.

Harry’s moans and curses barely registered as Louis felt his body seize and give into his orgasm. He cried out and bit the skin of his forearm as he shot hot come into his palm and onto the couch below. 

“Fuck—“ 

Harry gasped loudly behind him, dropping both of his hands to Louis’ hips as he sunk deep inside him and came. 

“Oh my God, fuck, Louis, oh my God--”

Louis tried to regulate his breathing as he rode out his orgasm, trying not to think about the mess he had just made on the fabric. He reached up and wiped the tears from his eyes as he panted and whimpered softly until Harry stopped moving behind him. 

He winced as Harry pulled out slowly. He placed both palms on the cushion beside his chest and pushed his upper body off the couch, walking his upper body back to where he lay bent in half over the armrest. He stood slowly, shaky on his feet, his eyes swollen from the tears.

“You alright?” Harry asked gently. 

He stepped toward Louis and pulled him into a hug to help support his legs while they steadied beneath him. Louis tipped his chin up and smiled at Harry before covering his lips with a kiss. Their movements were slow and languid as their bodies relaxed, both men basking in the afterglow.

“Never better,” he whispered.

 

******

 

“You continue to surprise me, you know,” Louis said. 

He turned to see Harry’s brow creased in confusion as he walked toward the kitchen to get his usual post-coital cup of water. Always hydrating. 

Louis wanted a beer.

“Surprise you? How so?”

“Well… it’s been four months now and I’m still getting to see different sides of you,” Louis grinned. “Every time I think I’ve seen the last version of Harry, you surprise me with a new one.” 

Louis walked into the bathroom to grab some tissue and soap. He could hear the water running as Harry refilled his water glass at the sink in the kitchen. He leaned down and rummaged in the cabinet for a towel, figuring that he should probably at least _attempt_ to clean the drying come off Liam's couch. Technically, he did still share this flat even if Liam did stay with Zayn ninety percent of the time.

“When I first met you, I kind of found you...” Louis searched for the right words as he gathered up the supplies and headed back toward the living room, “...a bit shy? Or, like, meek, maybe? Not in a bad way!” Louis laughed as he caught Harry’s glare. “And you can be, and I love that. Love when you let me take control. _Love_ that.”

“But?” 

Harry raised one eyebrow as he leaned his back against the sink, his naked body fully exposed and totally unconcerned about it. Louis allowed himself a moment of blatant staring before turning toward the couch and squirting some soap onto the crusty spot.

“But,” Louis smiled as he began scrubbing, “turns out that’s not all there is to Harry Styles. I’m not sure if I’m just getting to see more of your personality or whether you’ve changed since we first met or what, but I love it when you get a bit… dangerous. Take control. Tell me what to do. I like when _Dark Harry_ comes out.”

Harry barked out a loud, dorky laugh and clapped one hand over his mouth.

“Dark Harry?” he cackled. “Who in the hell is Dark Harry?”

“Dark Harry is the Harry that barely let me get inside the door before bending me over the couch and fucking me into oblivion,” Louis smirked. 

The suds foamed up in the cushion as he tried to erase the evidence of their... _explicit_... activities, unsure of whether he was making this issue better or worse. 

“It’s what I named him a while back.”

Harry pushed himself off of the counter from his spot by the sink and strode across the flat toward the sofa. Louis felt him close in behind him as he draped his body over his back. 

Harry playfully rubbed his naked dick against Louis’ naked arse where he was bent over scrubbing the fabric, his cheeks still slick from the lube and both men absolutely filthy after their day.

“Mmmm, Dark Harry,” he murmured into Louis’ ear. “I like that.”

“Mmmm, yes, well, Dark Harry smells rancid at the moment.” 

Louis turned his head and placed a quick kiss to his lips, feeling him chuckle and giving his waist a quick squeeze before standing up.

“You don’t exactly smell like roses yourself,” Harry grinned. “Shower before bed?”

“Obviously.” 

Louis stood and stared down dejectedly at the huge, wet spot on the couch. 

“Maybe that’ll look better in the morning.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Harry looked skeptically at the stain before taking off down the hallway toward the bathroom. “Just put a pillow over it.”

“Can’t,” Louis sighed. “The pillow’s already covering a wine stain down on the other end.”

He followed Harry down the hallway and into the bathroom, watching as his long torso stretched into the shower to turn on the water.

“So, which is it?” he asked, playfully pinching Harry’s bare cheek. “Have you changed, or are you just coming out of your shell? Can I look forward to more surprises?”

Harry bit his lip as he turned to look at Louis. The dark bathroom was lit only by the dim glow of the nightlight plugged into the outlet by the sink. It was late and neither of them seemed particularly keen on having the blinding overhead light in their eyes, so they left it off. 

Sleepy, dark, nighttime showers pressed up to Harry underneath the warm water. Louis was so happy.

“Not sure,” Harry’s words were slow as steam began to rise from the shower behind him. “I suppose maybe I have changed. I was never like that with Aiden.”

Louis smiled up at him and rocked forward to place a kiss to his chin.

“If I have changed, is that alright?” 

Harry looked down warmly at Louis and reached his big hands up to push his messy, sweaty fringe out of his eyes. His heart swelled as he thought about Harry growing as a person, hoping against hope that he would be around for long enough to see Harry change in other ways, too. Getting older, wiser, happier, more daring, more confident. He wanted to see that. Wanted to still be around to see all of those things.

“Of course, love,” Louis whispered.

He took Harry by the hands and led him into the shower. The water washed over them and splashed to the floor, taking with it the sweat and grime from the day before disappearing down the drain.

Louis placed a wet, sloppy kiss to Harry’s lips before pulling back and reaching for the shampoo. 

“Now, let me at those tangles.”

 

******

 

“Can we go camping?” Harry asked Louis as he toweled off. “I want to go camping.”

“Camping? Like, sleeping outside? On the ground?”

“Have you ever been?” 

“I normally try to do my sleeping indoors on a mattress,” Louis said as he stuck his toothbrush in his mouth. “Away from bugs and woodsmen axe murderers and whatnot.”

“Fine,” Harry slumped his shoulders as he reached for his toothbrush. “Niall and I usually go every autumn. Thought that maybe you’d want to join this year.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” Louis mumbled as toothpaste foam dripped unattractively from his mouth and down his chin. Harry reached up and wiped it away with his thumb. “But I’ll probably pass. Just not really the camping type.”

“Maybe we can go someday." 

Louis watched as Harry spit into the sink and stood up straight, examining himself in the mirror and gathering his hair in his hands at the back of his head. He reached into a drawer for a thin hairband before tying it up into a small, messy bun. He was so fucking hot. 

“I want to sleep under the stars with you,” he smiled.

Louis blushed and spit his own toothpaste into the sink before wiping his mouth and turning to face Harry. 

“Well, maybe you can convince me someday.” 

He wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and rubbed the tips of their noses together. Harry walked Louis backward toward the bedroom, not letting go of his grip around his shoulders as they moved. 

They fell sideways onto the bed and crawled underneath the messy pile of blankets. He could see Harry’s eyelids drooping as he lay curled on his side facing Louis, exhaustion from the day finally setting in. He was asleep within five minutes.

Louis rolled over and stared up at the dark ceiling, his body tired but his mind wide awake. He thought about camping. Falling asleep under the stars pressed against Harry, no noise to wake them but the sounds of birds and the breeze, completely alone in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do and nowhere to go.

When he thought of it that way, it didn’t seem so bad. Maybe he would go after all. 

Harry had been disappointed when he'd said no, and Louis never wanted to be the source of Harry’s disappointment. He only wanted to make him happy.

He slipped out of bed and headed toward the living room, making a pit stop by the closet in the hall to grab some spare sheets and blankets. He tried to stay quiet as he rummaged around in a box buried deep in the back corner of the closet with the words “Santa Shit” scribbled messily across the top. His fingers finally curled around the long strands of Christmas lights lying tangled in the bottom.

He closed the door softly and padded barefoot down the dark hallway, leaving Harry snoring peacefully in his bed behind him.

 

******

 

“Hey, Hazza,” Louis whispered, gently pushing the mess of curls off Harry’s sleepy face. “Harry, love, wake up.”

Harry groaned and turned his head away from Louis, burying his face into the pillow as he grumbled obscenities about letting him sleep. 

“Babe, come on, wake up.” 

Louis slid closer to him and pressed his body against Harry’s back, kissing into the still-damp hair that gathered at the base of Harry’s neck. Apples.

“Harry, I have a surprise.”

Harry slowly sat up and groggily rubbed his eyes, looking very much like a disgruntled eight year-old. Louis had to suppress the very fond, very endeared sound creeping up his throat. 

“What time’s it?” Harry murmured into the darkness. 

“Uhh,” Louis leaned over and reached for his phone. “It is… three o’clock. In the morning.”

“Is everything alright?” Harry's eyes grew big as he looked toward Louis, concern etched across his brow. “Have you slept at all?”

“Nope.” 

Louis climbed off the bed and stood over Harry, reaching out and taking him by the hands. 

“I have a surprise,” he repeated.

“Okay,” Harry murmured. He slowly swung his legs out from under the covers and stared up at Louis. “A surprise… at three in the morning.”

“Yep,” Louis said happily. 

He pulled Harry by the hand and led him down the dark hallway toward the living room, stopping as they reached the doorway. The soft light emanating from underneath the mess of poorly constructed sheets cast a warm, yellow glow over Harry’s face. 

“Ta-daa.”

“What—” 

Louis watched as Harry stared into the middle of the room, obviously confused. 

“You made a fort?”

“A tent,” Louis corrected. “We are going camping.”

Harry looked over at him sideways as a huge smile broke out across his face, his dimple on full display. Louis could see excitement in his eyes as he walked forward toward the tent, which consisted entirely of old hand-me-down sheets draped over the back of the couch, chair, and kitchen barstools. It was very lopsided.

He watched as Harry dropped to his knees and climbed inside.

“Oh my God, Lou,” he murmured.

He looked up at Louis from where he sat cross-legged on top of the pallet of blankets that Louis had created. 

“This is amazing. Also, this is definitely a fire hazard.”

“Well I couldn’t very well build a campfire, so I had to improvise,” Louis said as he crawled in behind Harry, gesturing toward the tiny tea lights scattered on the floor inside of the tent. 

Harry’s eyes darted around the inside of their makeshift campsite, flicking between the tiny candles and the strands of Christmas lights that Louis had strung up above them. 

“Wanted to sleep under the stars with you,” Louis smiled.

Harry dropped his eyes from the lights above their heads and down to his face. Louis reached out and rested his hands on Harry’s knees where he sat facing him. 

“You are my favorite person,” Harry said quietly. 

He reached up and took Louis’ cheeks in his hands and gently dragged his thumb over his bottom lip. Louis nuzzled his face into Harry’s palm and closed his eyes, his heart warming as he breathed in Harry’s scent. 

He rocked forward and brought their lips together, kissing Harry softly under the glow of the lights above them. 

“Come here."

Harry gestured toward his chest as he leaned back onto the mess of pillows and blankets. Louis crawled toward him and tucked himself into his side, resting his cheek on Harry’s chest.

“We should probably blow these candles out before we sleep,” Louis sighed. He absentmindedly traced small hearts into the bare skin of Harry’s chest. “Don’t want to set the building on fire.”

Harry leaned over and blew out the tea light beside him as Louis blew out the two to his right. He rolled back over and exhaled deeply as Harry wrapped his arm around his shoulders, pulling a blanket up to his neck. 

“Go to sleep,” Harry murmured. 

Louis felt him kiss his forehead as he drifted off into darkness.

 

******

 

“It was you."

The words were barely loud enough for Louis to hear. His brain was fuzzy as he hung suspended in that blurry place between awake and asleep. 

“You’re the reason.” 

Louis slowly blinked his eyes open. Soft light cast from the strands of small bulbs draped above them danced on the walls of their makeshift tent. It was late… very late. 

He leaned his head back into the crook of Harry’s underarm and tilted his face upward, allowing his eyes to adjust to the shadows as Harry’s face came into focus. He was staring straight up at the lights, one arm wrapped around Louis and the other propped up under his head. He looked wide-awake.

“What?” Louis asked groggily. 

He placed a lazy, sleepy kiss to the skin beside Harry’s nipple. He smelled like soap and his skin was soft and warm and clean from their shower.

“You asked me earlier if I had changed, and I’ve been laying here thinking about it… and I have. In lots of ways, I think. Maybe not noticeable ones, but if I really stop and think about it, I _feel_ different. I feel like I’ve changed a lot, actually. And it’s because of you.”

Louis tucked himself closer into Harry’s side as he listened to him talk, draping one leg across his thigh and gently squeezing the soft skin of his waist. He reached down and pulled one of the blankets up around them, burrowing himself into Harry’s chest.

“You changed my life,” Harry whispered, his eyes still pointed up toward the sagging sheets overhead. “Not that it was bad before… honestly, I didn’t even realize that there was anything missing. But looking back now, that's clear.”

He felt Harry’s hand move from his grip around his shoulders up to his head, his fingers dancing softly in the back of Louis’ hair. 

“ _Everything_ is just more clear to me now,” Harry said. “It’s like everything before you was good, things were fine, things were good… but now…” 

He trailed off as he glanced down to meet Louis’ eyes. Louis craned his neck up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“But now…” he prompted. 

“Now, it’s all just so much _better_.” 

Harry smiled big up toward the ceiling. He pulled Louis even tighter into the side of his body.

“It’s like I was living in black and white before, but I didn’t even notice, because a black and white world was all I’d ever known. But then you came into my life, totally out of the blue, and you were loud and colorful and chaotic—” 

Louis chuckled, his face bouncing up and down where it rested against Harry’s chest. He buried his smile into Harry’s skin. 

“—It’s like you showed me how much brighter everything could be. Even when we’re not together, my life is still brighter. I can be doing something I’ve done a million times before. Nothing fancy. Maybe I’m grocery shopping, or lying around on a Saturday, or even just driving to work, but even those things feel different now. Better. I didn’t even know that I was missing something, but I was. Everything is just different. In the best possible way.” 

Harry’s dropped his eyes to Louis’. 

“Better in a way that I didn’t even know was possible. Until you.”

Louis wasn’t sure what the feeling in his chest was, but it felt too big to contain. It almost felt like his heart was breaking. It felt almost painful, felt almost like he could cry from how overwhelming it was. But he wasn’t sad. He was sure about that.

“What was your first impression of me?” he asked Harry. “That first day we met. What were you thinking?”

Harry chuckled.

“That’s random."

“I’m just curious,” Louis smiled. “Seeing as we’re sharing and all that. What was going through your head?”

He felt Harry hum thoughtfully against the back of his head before falling silent for a few moments. Louis thought that maybe he had dozed off.

“My fingertips were twitching,” Harry finally murmured. “Restless. I wanted to reach out and touch you, wanted to wrap my arms around your shoulders and pull you close. Smell your hair, breathe you in. I wanted to lie down with you, feel your skin beneath my lips.”

Louis’ heart was racing. His breathing was ragged. He wanted to hide, but he wanted to hear more.

“I wanted to know you better,” Harry said, “wanted to know everything about you. I wanted to ask you about your favorite place. What was your favorite subject in school? Do you sleep in socks? Do you prefer warm weather or the cold? Your proudest moment, your deepest regret. I wanted to know everything that makes you up. See every piece, touch every inch, the good and the bad, the whole parts and the broken ones. Wanted it all.”

Louis let out the breath he was holding, sending a flurry of chill bumps across Harry's skin where his cheek still lay pressed against his chest. They lay there in silence for a moment before Louis spoke, both men just looking up into the lights. 

“My mum’s house,” he said quietly. “Her kitchen, more specifically. Drama class, or maybe creative writing. Warm weather, though I do love a good snowstorm 'round Christmas. Curtain close on the first night of my school performance of Grease. Not being around more for my sisters when they were growing up. Could’ve helped my mum out a bit more.”

He let out a shaky breath and pressed his lips to Harry’s golden skin. 

“And now you know.”

He tightened his grip around Harry’s waist where his arm lay stretched across his abs, his elevated heartbeat pounding in his ear where his face rested against Harry’s chest. 

He wanted to be closer even though they were already lying skin to skin. Wanted to be closer, needed to be closer, wanted to be unable to tell where Harry stopped and he began. Impossibly close. 

“I am in love with you,” Louis said. 

The words tumbled out unexpectedly. His heart was pounding with nerves and hope and a little bit of fear as he heard himself speak them out loud for the first time, but he knew undeniably that they were true the second that they left his tongue. He loved Harry. 

He heard Harry suck in a quick breath before his face split into a wide smile. Louis felt a hot tear well up in the corner of his eye, leaving a trail of moisture down his cheek before spilling onto Harry’s skin below. 

He didn’t know why he was crying. He didn’t know what was happening to his entire body, actually. His chest felt like it was going to explode and his heart was racing and he felt a bit like he was going to throw up and he was actually crying, like there were just a few too many emotions to process at one time. Maybe he was dying. 

He watched as Harry bit his lip, the huge smile still on his face as his chest rose and fell unsteadily. He leaned forward and brought the hand propped behind his head down toward Louis’ cheek. His thumb wiped across the wet trail left by the stray teardrop. 

Louis was unable to stop a small giggle from escaping his mouth. His chest felt impossibly warm.

Harry brought his mouth down to meet Louis’, covering his lips in a slow, deep kiss. 

“I love you,” Harry whispered into his mouth. “I really do, Lou. I have for a long time.”

“Never felt like this before,” Louis murmured between their kisses, biting gently on Harry’s bottom lip. “Wasn’t even sure what I was feeling at first, since it’s brand new for me and all.”

He brought his hand up to tug on one of the curls by Harry’s ear, watching it recoil and spring back into shape as he released it. 

“It’s all a bit overwhelming, really. You’re a bit overwhelming.” 

“It’s brand new for me, too,” Harry said as he placed soft kisses all over Louis’ face. “I thought I was in love before. Told him I loved him, said the words, but this feels… different. I feel so different. It feels so… powerful.”

“Yeah?” Louis smiled, his lips finding Harry’s once more.

“Yeah,” Harry rested his forehead against Louis’, his breathing still ragged against Louis’ mouth. “Loving you… it’s different. It’s everything. It’s as easy as breathing.”

“I love pretty much everything about you,” Louis said, gently kissing the corner of Harry’s lips. “But I love your heart the most.”

“I love your brain,” Harry said quietly against Louis’ ear. “Your wit.”

“I love how weird you are,” Louis nibbled on Harry’s bottom lip. “I love watching you cook in that stupid apron.”

“I love cooking for you,” Harry laughed softly. “I love your smart mouth. Love these lips.” 

“I love your body,” Louis ran his hand up Harry’s bare chest, dragging his fingernails against the warm skin.

“I love the sound of your name,” Harry whispered.

“I love the way you say it.” 

Louis pushed himself up onto his knees and brought his left leg over the top of Harry’s waist to straddle him. He dropped his hands to the back of Harry’s neck and linked his fingers together, his thumbs pressing with gentle force on either side of his throat. 

He leaned down to suck on Harry’s Adam’s apple, breathing in the smell of his soap and apple shampoo. Harry had started leaving a set of his own toiletries over at Louis’ flat months ago. Louis loved seeing them in his shower. Loved seeing Harry all over. 

He sucked harder on his throat, fully intending to leave a visible spot front and center for everyone to see. They were in love. Harry was his. He was Harry’s. 

He suddenly felt like crying again.

Harry moaned underneath Louis’ lips and rocked his hips up in an attempt to find some friction. Louis took the sensitive skin of Harry’s neck between his teeth as he sucked, biting and releasing repeatedly, lathing his tongue over the sore spot after each assault. Harry was trembling underneath him as his hands roamed over Louis’ bare back, his fingernails dragging hard enough to leave his skin stinging in their wake.

Louis released his hold on Harry’s neck and reached around behind his back to take Harry by the wrists. He laced their fingers together and guided Harry’s hands up above his head, sliding them underneath the pillows. Louis held them firmly in place as he leaned down to meet Harry’s lips with his own. Breathy moans filled the air as they sucked and nibbled on each other’s mouths, Harry groaning desperately under each roll of Louis’ hips. 

He felt Harry’s fingernails dig into his wrists where Louis continued to restrain his hands underneath the pillow. 

“Stay,” Louis said, the word quiet but firm. 

Harry whimpered as Louis placed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. He released his hold on Harry’s hands and dropped his face to the underside of his jaw line, working his way down slowly as he licked and kissed and bit at Harry’s throat and collarbone. He used his fingers to gently roll and flick Harry’s nipples between kisses and licks. He dragged his teeth gently over the sensitive skin, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before Harry was frantic. 

He moaned and writhed beneath Louis, the muscles in his arms tensing but his hands never straying from their spot under the pillow. 

Louis leaned back and ground his hips slowly. His arse cheeks dragged the fabric from his pants over Harry’s hard cock.

He had an idea. 

“Lou,“ Harry protested as Louis abruptly hopped off his groin and climbed out of the tent, “no, come back--” 

“One second, love.”

Louis jogged down the hallway toward his bedroom and scanned the messy floor, spotting his discarded dress shirt from work on Friday lying crumpled in the corner of the room. He bent down and shook the black, silk tie free from the collar. 

He jogged back down the hallway and crawled into the tent to see Harry flat on his back and breathing heavily in the exact position he had left him. Good boy.

Louis straddled Harry’s middle and ran both of his hands up his arms to find his fingers beneath the pillow. He brought the silk tie to Harry’s wrists and quickly fastened a knot with the fabric, taking care not to tie it too tightly against his skin. 

Harry’s breathing quickened as he watched Louis secure his bound hands to the leg of the chair behind him, his long arms stretched fully above his head. 

“Oh my God,” Harry groaned, unable to tear his eyes away from the makeshift restraint. "Oh my God."

“Pull.” 

Louis’ voice was deeper than usual. He saw Harry’s pupils darken where he lay expectantly beneath him, his breathing frantic and teeth biting at his bottom lip as he continued to grind his hips helplessly upward into Louis' arse. He would never get over how pliant Harry became when he used that tone of voice.

Harry jerked his hands downward obediently, his biceps flexing as he was unable to free his hands from their spot above his head.

“Perfect,” Louis smiled. 

He leaned down to drag his tongue over the inside of Harry’s arm, feeling the muscle contract as he worked his way back toward his chest. He pushed his body lower and nudged Harry’s legs open with his knee before slotting himself into the gap between his thighs. 

Louis placed both hands on Harry’s hips and dragged his tongue from left to right across the waistband of his pants. He pressed his lips to the dark stain on the gray fabric where Harry had already begun to leak. He heard him groan.

Louis slipped his thumbs underneath the elastic and slowly pulled, dragging his nails against the skin as he mouthed at Harry’s swollen cock through his pants. He pulled them down further to expose his hard dick. He stared down at it hungrily where it lay against his hip, the head nearly touching his bellybutton.

“I love your cock,” Louis murmured.

He dragged his lips and tongue lazily around the base as his hands continued to push Harry’s pants down his thighs. 

“I love your thighs. I love your hands, your fingers.”

Harry was panting silently as Louis ran his tongue slowly up the vein on the underside of the shaft before closing his mouth around the head, causing him to shudder and groan. 

He pressed both palms to Harry’s thighs and pushed to prevent him from thrusting up. Harry moaned as he lay totally immobile, unable to touch himself or move his hips, his biceps flexing as he helplessly pulled down on the restraint in an effort to free his hands.

“Fuck, Louis,” he gasped as Louis lazily licked and sucked the head of his cock without using his hands. He pressed his tongue into the slit where precome leaked steadily. “Oh my God, oh my God—“

Louis sunk down further, taking Harry as far as he could and digging his fingernails into the flesh of his thighs where he continued to hold him in place. 

Harry cried out as the tip hit the back of Louis’ throat, his body trembling under the sensation. He pulled off slowly as Harry panted and swore under his breath, all the while Louis licking and sucking on the head. 

Louis leaned backward and reached outside the tent to the coffee table, grabbing the container of lube from the small drawer in the side. He popped the cap open and squirted a bit out onto his fingers before dropping his face back to Harry’s groin, his mouth closing around the tip as he inserted a single, slick finger.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my God, fuck—“ 

Harry was babbling as Louis sucked and fucked him with his finger, getting him prepped and loose before inserting a second one beside it. 

“You’re so amazing, oh my God, Jesus, fuck fuuuck—“ 

Harry moaned as Louis bent his knuckles to stroke his walls. He opened his throat and sunk down again, bobbing his head and taking Harry all the way into the back of his throat as tears welled up in his eyes. 

He heard Harry sob as he inserted a third finger before slowly pulling his mouth off, his swollen lips dragging up the shaft.

“Don’t come,” Louis rasped out. Harry whimpered. 

His fingers were still working as Louis reached over and grabbed the cup of ice water from the floor beside Harry. He had intended for Harry to drink it as he had a habit of waking up thirsty in the middle of the night, but this worked, too. 

Louis took a small cube into his mouth and tucked it under his tongue before pressing his lips to the tip of Harry’s cock, rock hard and dripping with Louis’ warm spit. He opened his mouth and sunk down, allowing a bit of the cold spit from where the ice cube lay tucked in the bottom of his mouth to spread out around Harry’s dick. 

Harry trembled as Louis sucked and swirled the cool water around with his warm tongue. His breathing was frantic and distressed and the chair creaked as his hands pulled against the restraint above his head. 

Louis was slightly concerned that the tent was going to come crashing down around them at any moment. It wasn’t exactly well constructed, and he had tied Harry to the one piece of furniture that was supporting an entire side. Good thinking.

“Fuck, Louis, it’s too much, I’m close, fuck—“ 

Harry was gasping as he turned his head to the side and bit the skin of his bicep. Louis could tell that he was close. 

“Oh my God, please—“

Louis used his tongue to move the mostly melted ice cube around in his mouth. The cold sensation combined with his warm spit sent Harry into a frenzy. His hips bucked despite Louis doing his best to hold them in place and his ass clenched around Louis’ fingers as they crooked downward and stroked against his spot. 

Harry sobbed and bit his own skin to keep from crying out, his hands balled into fists as the silk fabric dug into his wrists.

“Please, Louis, please,” he begged, his entire body tense as his chest heaved. “Fuck, I can’t stop, fuck Louis, I can’t—“

Louis groaned as his own cock throbbed against the fabric of his boxers at the sound of Harry’s desperate pleas. He groaned again and took Harry all the way to the back of his throat, the ice cube totally melted but his tongue and mouth still cool from where it had been. 

He fucked his fingers harder into Harry as he opened his throat around the head of his cock and allowed Harry to buck his hips up, shooting load after load as he sobbed out loud and shouted Louis’ name. Louis ground his own cock against Harry’s leg as he searched for relief, listening to Harry lose himself completely. His body shook and his cock pulsed in the back of Louis’ throat. 

Louis slowed the movements of his fingers as he felt Harry’s muscles relaxing beneath him. His sobs turned into small whimpers and heavy breathing as he came down from his high. Louis pulled his mouth slowly off as spit and come dripped from his lips. 

“You are gorgeous,” Louis whispered.

His voice was raspy and quiet. He dropped a hand to his own crotch and rubbed himself through the fabric as his own dick ached and pleaded for attention. 

“I love you, Haz.”

He crawled up Harry’s body as he planted soft, sweet kisses along his torso and chest and neck with his swollen lips. He reached his hands up to untie Harry’s wrists. 

“No,” Harry said.

His voice was unsteady. His sweaty face lay pressed against his trembling bicep, eyes still shut tight.

“Are you okay?” Louis asked as concern began to grow in his chest.

“Yes." 

Harry wiped his cheek on the skin of his arm before looking up to meet Louis’ eyes.

“I want you to fuck my face.”

“Oh,” Louis said, his cock throbbing where it stood tented in his boxers. “You sure?”

“So sure,” Harry smiled. “The surest. And I want you to leave me tied up.”

Louis let out a noise that was somewhere between a moan and a groan and a growl as he looked down onto Harry, his long arms stretched high above his head and tied to leg of his living room chair with his nice, silk tie… the tie that he would most likely wear to work on Monday. 

Harry’s face and chest were red and flushed and sweaty. His mouth was hanging slightly agape as he dragged his tongue over his bottom lip, staring up at Louis through heavy-lidded eyes. 

Fuck.

“Well alright, if you insist."

He slipped his thumbs beneath the waistband of his pants and pulled them off, tossing them onto the floor beside the pile of blankets. Harry giggled and opened his mouth. His lips were big and pink and expectant as he waited for Louis’ cock. 

“Oh my God,” Louis groaned as he leaned down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I swear you’re my fucking dream.”

He climbed up and placed a knee to either side of Harry’s outstretched arms, straddling his face and grabbing the armrest of the chair above Harry’s head for stability. The top of Louis’ hair brushed against the Christmas lights dangling beneath the sheet that stretched from the back of the chair across to the couch. 

It was going to be cramped, but cozy. Especially with his dick tucked firmly into the back of Harry’s throat.

Louis pushed his hips forward and brought the tip of his cock to Harry’s open lips. 

“Kick me if you want me to stop,” Louis said. 

He pushed forward and felt Harry’s warm mouth around the tip, his tongue swirling in circles as it dragged over the slit and flicked back and forth at the sensitive knot on the underside of the head. Louis moaned and pushed in further, trying to be patient as Harry licked and sucked and slicked it all up. 

He pushed in even further and watched from above as Harry’s lips stretched around his shaft. He felt Harry’s throat relax as he pushed in the rest of the way. He was dangerously close already as Harry stared up at him, his chest heaving and his nose buried into the soft hair around the base. 

“You alright, love?” Louis gasped. “Blink once for yes… blink once if I can start to move—”

Harry’s eyes shut slowly in a single blink. Louis moaned and gripped the chair tighter before pulling his hips back and thrusting forward gently. He moved slowly to let Harry get accustomed to the sensation. Harry groaned around him, sending vibrations through Louis’ cock as he humped into his mouth.

“Oh shit,” Louis gasped. 

He clung to the fabric and thrusted his hips forward as his cock hit the back of Harry’s throat over and over and over. 

“Oh my God, fuck, I’m close—“

Harry moaned around him as he breathed frantically through his nose, tears streaking steadily from the corners of his eyes. Louis shuddered as he felt his cock throbbing. Harry’s choked noises pushed him closer to the edge as he fucked his face, the tense muscles of his throat warm and tight around Louis. 

“Oh my God—“ he choked out. "Oh my God please oh my God--"

His entire body tensed as he came hard down the back of Harry’s throat, panting and moaning into the crook of his arm as his cock pulsed in Harry’s mouth. Harry grunted around him as his throat closed around the sensitive head. 

Louis pulled back slowly and carefully, watching as Harry shifted his jaw around and licked his lips once Louis was finally out.

“Thank you, thank you—” 

Louis scooted backward down Harry’s body and leaned forward, still straddling either side of his waist as he reached up to untie the knot around his wrists. He kissed Harry’s swollen lips gently, feeling his mouth curve up into a lazy grin against Louis’. 

“You are amazing, thank you, thank you,” he repeated as he kissed Harry’s cheeks, chin, nose, eyelids. “Thank you.”

The knot around Harry’s wrists had gotten substantially tighter since he'd first tied it thanks to Harry’s constant pulling on it. His fingers tugged at the fabric until he finally got the silk to loosen, freeing Harry’s hands and rubbing gentle circles into the reddened skin beneath. 

He dropped his gaze to Harry’s face. His eyes were swollen and wet, his lips were swollen and wet, his skin was red and flushed and wet. 

He looked a mess. He looked gorgeous. 

“I love you,” Louis said, the words coming easily. “I can’t believe I get to say that now! I can’t believe I get to see this part of you. Every part of you.”

Harry grinned lazily up at him as his breathing finally steadied. Louis continued to massage his wrists, confident that they would be bruised and sore tomorrow. 

Harry reached up and wrapped his arms around Louis’ shoulders and pulled him down onto his chest before kissing the top of his head. They lay there in silence for a few moments as their chests rose and fell in time with one another. The muffled sound of a car alarm far off in the distance was the only sound apart from their slowing breathing. 

The soft light of the Christmas lights above their heads made everything feel like a dream.

“Do you want to wake up and go for a run in the morning?” Harry asked.

“Or you could just strangle me with these Christmas lights,” Louis said dryly. “Plus, I thought we have a date at the clinic, do we not?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry grinned. “Guess the run will have to wait.”

“Damn. What a shame." 

He felt Harry’s fingers playing in the back of his hair, his big thumb rubbing softly over his scalp. It was so comforting. 

“Shit, wait, tomorrow’s Monday,” Louis groaned. “How did we not realize that? We have to work.”

“Do you want to play hooky with me?” Harry asked playfully. “We can sleep late, go to the clinic, lay around naked for the rest of the day.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Louis tilted his face up to kiss Harry’s chin. “Yes. Let’s please do that.”

“I love you. I’m glad you’re here next to me.”

“Mind if I stay a while?” Louis said. He was sleepy. “I quite like it here.”

“Please do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice.


	13. The Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets brave. Louis is supportive.
> 
> They both get colorful.

******  
13.1

THE PARENTS  
Saturday, September 26, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

“Where the hell is Niall? Trivia starts at nine o’clock,” Liam complained from where he lay sprawled out on the old, lumpy couch. "I'm bored."

Louis noticed that he was sitting on the stain from where he came on the cushion the night that Harry had fucked him over the armrest. He decided not to mention it.

He watched as Zayn pulled out his phone to text Niall. 

“He’s on his way,” Zayn announced.

Louis took a sip of his beer and went back to braiding Harry’s hair. It was long enough now that his curls hung almost an inch past his shoulders when he got out of the shower. Right now, though, Louis was just making a mess out of it.

“Hope you’re ready to pay up,” he said confidently as he worked his fingers through Harry’s ringlets.

He felt Harry preen underneath him, rolling his neck slightly to force more of Louis’ hand onto his head. Louis smiled softly and gave his scalp an affectionate scratch.

“I’ve been studying up for weeks,” he bragged. “Reading all sorts of trivia facts. Haz and I are going to wipe the floor with you lot.”

“I wish he was joking about that,” Harry mumbled. “The other night he was halfway through a blowjob when he stopped and asked me if I knew what the currency of Kyrgyzstan is.”

“The Kyrgyzstani Som,” Louis rattled off proudly. “Also, you have no room to talk about weird questions in the bedroom. ‘Lou, do you think that the bees know they’re endangered? Do you think they’re trying to be nicer and sting less people because of it? Lou, how do you think people get into fire-baton twirling? Lou, do you ever think about how if erasers were people, how bad it would hurt to have your butt dragged across paper?’”

“I was high when I asked the eraser thing,” Harry said defensively as Liam cracked up. “That shouldn’t count.”

“One time you asked me if I thought it hurts the tree when the leaves fall during autumn.”

“I think it would feel like when you pick a scab off,” Harry mused. Louis smiled and shook his head fondly.

“Niall’s here,” Liam said, pulling the curtain back and looking out the window down onto the street. "Finally."

The ride over to Ed’s was uneventful with Louis packed into the backseat between Harry and Liam while Zayn sat sprawled out in his usual spot up front. He wasn’t sure when they had developed assigned seating in Niall’s car or why he had gotten the shittiest seat in the bunch. He wasn’t pleased about it.

Harry spent most of the ride quietly looking out the window with his forehead pressed to the glass. Louis had noticed that he had seemed slightly off most of the day. He didn’t blame him. He knew that he was nervous about meeting Liam’s parents tomorrow. Well, _his_ parents, technically. Birth parents. What a strange concept.

Louis took Harry’s hand in his own and began rubbing small, gentle circles into the skin between his thumb and pointer finger, knowing that the motion comforted him. He felt Harry squeeze his fingers gently in response.

Louis decided that he was going to try to make tonight as fun and carefree as possible to take some of the pressure off.

“Did you know that only female mosquitoes bite you?” he read from the trivia app on his phone. “Or that the Johnny Cash song ‘A Boy Named Sue’ was actually written by Shel Silverstein? That guy who writes children’s poems?”

“I can see why Harry is annoyed with you,” Zayn muttered. “If you don’t shut up I’m going to push you out of this car.”

“You should be thankful that I’m spreading the knowledge since it doesn’t sound like any of you are prepared,” Louis said happily. “I almost feel bad for you, honestly. This almost feels like an unfair fight.”

He glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Harry still gazing out the window, lost in his thoughts. The streetlamps outside cast his face in and out of the shadows as they drove. He was so beautiful.

Niall parked the car along the side of the street a few hundred yards from the entrance to the pub. All five men climbed out and headed toward the large, wooden doors as Louis pulled his jacket tight around his chest. The brisk chill that settled in the air each night after the sun went down meant that autumn had arrived and winter was right around the corner.

He smiled to himself at the thought of a cold, gray winter spent warmly tucked into Harry’s side. He reached out and slipped his hand into Harry’s.

The Grade 8 was its usual conglomeration of local patrons and dusty, dimly lit ambiance, but it was warm and familiar and had become their go-to spot over the past six months. The five men ambled through the room toward their usual booth in the back by the stage. Harry waved at Ed as they passed, motioning for five beers. 

Louis slid into the booth beside Harry and slipped his arms out of his jacket, tossing it onto the floor beneath the table. Niall slid into the other side behind Liam and Zayn.

“What’s this?” Louis asked, pointing across the table at the three men. “Three against two? Fine, fine, no worries, Haz and I will play a man down and still win. We agreed to twenty pounds each, right?”

“Sounds good to me,” Niall shrugged.

A blonde waitress brought over a pitcher of beer and five glasses. Louis tried to stifle a laugh as he watched Niall’s eternal struggle unfold, torn between the cold beer on the table in front of him and the pretty woman standing beside him.

“Be a bit more obvious, mate,” Louis teased as he reached out to fill each of their glasses.

“She’s gorgeous,” Niall whined, watching as she walked back toward the bar. “I’m going to talk to her tonight. Ask her to dinner or something. I’ve been flirting with her for weeks, now.”

“If by ‘flirting,’ you actually mean ‘staring at her breasts as she pours you beer,’ then yes, you have been,” Louis said dryly. "I'm sure she's loved that."

Louis settled back in his seat and tucked himself into Harry's side, watching in concern as he stared unfocused at the stage to his right.

“You alright, love?” Louis asked quietly enough for only Harry to hear.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. The smile on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just a bit… preoccupied, is all. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I know you’ve got a lot on your mind—“

“I know what you’re trying to do by the way,” Harry interrupted. “Trying to distract me. I can always tell when you’re ‘on,’ you know. Thank you.”

“What do you mean, when I’m ‘on’?” Louis giggled into Harry’s shoulder. “What does that mean?”

“It’s like you know when I’m off, so you turn yourself on. Oh my God, not like that, Louis—“

Louis got a swift pinch to the bicep as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“—you overcompensate, I mean. But in a good way. Puts me at ease. You do it a lot without realizing it, I think,” Harry said. “Not just for me, either. It’s like you can sense when someone needs a bit ‘extra’ or something. I’m doing a shit job of explaining it, but it’s one of my favorite things about you.”

He felt himself blushing as Harry lifted his hand to his mouth and pressed a firm kiss to his palm. Six months in and this man could still make him blush like it was their first date.

“Alright everyone! Shut up then, will you?” 

Ed’s familiar, friendly voice rang out from the speakers beside the stage. Louis tore his eyes away from Harry’s smile to look up at where he stood with a microphone in one hand and a small packet of papers in the other. Go time.

“I think we’re just about ready to start,” he said. “A few reminders about the rules since I know you lot are cheaters – no using phones if you’re participating in the trivia contest. No Googling or phoning a friend or whatnot. All you’ve got is yourself, your team, and your scrambled brains, so my thoughts and prayers go out to at least half of you on that. Notepads should be on the tables already for you to write your answers on. Winning team gets their bar tab covered. Alright, I think that’s it… let’s get started!”

Louis cracked his knuckles and nodded at Harry. The Dream Team. The Dynamic Duo. The Super Squad.

The questions started out easy enough and the beer flowed freely, mostly thanks to Niall signaling for the pretty waitress whenever their pitcher got less than half full. Louis was sure that if his intentions were to woo her, he was not succeeding by making her work extra hard.

He felt Harry begin to relax noticeably about three beers and ten questions into the game, giggling and contributing to the conversation but staying firmly glued to Louis’ side. Something about him felt different tonight. Vulnerable, maybe.

Louis found that, more than ever, he just wanted to make him laugh. Help him. Protect him. 

So they drank.

“What was the first planet to be discovered using the telescope in 1781?” Ed asked.

“Uranus,” Harry giggled. His beer sloshed up over the rim of his glass as his body shook with laughter. “Write ‘Uranus,’ Lou. Pleeease.”

“You’re such a child,” Louis pretended to scold as he scribbled ‘Uranus’ onto the notepad beside the number eighteen. He drew an arse with a dick pointed toward it. “So immature, Harold.”

They were speaking in hushed tones behind the makeshift barricade that Harry had constructed out of old, Grade 8 menus in an attempt to block their voices from the three men sitting across the table. The menus were dirty and faded and had approximately four items on them, but they were doing the trick to keep their conversations private as they tried to come up with the correct answers to each question.

Louis had already overheard Niall’s answers on more than one occasion. It wasn’t his fault, really – Niall’s alcohol intake and his speaking volume were directly proportional to one another.

“Hey, Lou, Lou,” Harry mumbled as he elbowed Louis in the side. “Uranus is _out of this world_.”

“Who do I call about getting a refund on my boyfriend?” Louis smiled at him. “I think mine is defective.”

Harry leaned over and kissed him sloppily. Any distress from earlier in the evening had seemingly vanished. Good.

“Question nineteen,” Ed said into the microphone. “What is ‘allspice’ formally known as?”

“Allspice?” Louis said, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. “Wasn’t that a girl band in the nineties?”

“I think you’re combining All Saints and Spice Girls,” Harry laughed. “Allspice is a literal spice. That goes on food. I know the answer to this… just give me a second…”

He rubbed his temples and stared down at the table as he racked his brain. It was adorable.

“Oh! Oh!” his eyes lit up excitedly as he landed on his train of thought. “It starts with a ‘p’… picante, pilarmo… Pimento!”

“Thanks, mate,” Liam grinned at Harry from over the top of their own menu wall as his excited shout carried across the table. 

“Oops,” he giggled. “Guess they got a freebie.”

“Get it together, Styles,” Louis scratched ‘pimento’ onto line nineteen in his increasingly messy handwriting. "This is serious. This is war."

They had been through five pitchers of beer. There were five men at the table. Louis predicted that this night was going to get very sloppy very quickly if any of them were to actually win the free bar tab.

“Alright, final question,” Ed's voice rang out over the chatter and music. “Which country has more tractors per capita – Canada, Iceland, or Japan?”

“What the fuck?” Louis hissed at Harry who was busy polishing off the rest of his beer. “ _Tractors per capita?_ That wasn’t in any of the trivia apps.”

“Alright, let’s think through this logically,” Harry slurred. His cheeks were pink. Louis had the sudden urge to bite his dimple. “Tractors mean grass. Grass means, like, fields and stuff. Open land. Canada has lots of open land.”

“Yeah but isn’t it forests?”

Louis took a sip of his beer as he thought it through. He had never been to Canada, but he knew that they had National Parks and shit. And mountains. 

“I think they have too many mountains,” he said to Harry. “I don’t think you can drive a tractor up a mountain.”

“Alright, so not Canada,” Harry said. “I don’t know much about Japan. I just think of the entire country as Tokyo, to be honest, and I don’t think there are many tractors in Tokyo.”

“Well it can’t be Iceland,” Louis argued. “You don’t need tractors on ice.”

“I think that’s a trick question. Iceland isn’t actually icey, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Louis thought back to grade school. “I think you’re right! Iceland is green and Greenland is icey. Ed, you sly dog.”

“Okay, so, is Iceland greener than Japan?”

“What does one even _do _with a tractor?” Louis asked exasperatedly. “I’m thinking of, like, fucking Texas.”__

“Twenty seconds!” Ed shouted out.

“Shit.”

Harry ran one hand through his messy hair as Louis reached up and tugged on the end of one of the springy bits, watching it bounce back into place as he released it. 

“Let’s go with Iceland,” Harry said.

“Icelanders on tractors,” he mused. “All of our eggs in the Iceland basket…”

Louis wrote ICELAND in huge, block letters beside the number twenty on their notepad. He slid out of the booth and took off running across the pub as Ed announced that players only had fifteen seconds to get their answer sheets turned in. He weaved his way through the crowd before arriving at a rickety table shoved up against the farthest wall where the other teams were submitting their own notepads for scoring.

He dropped his and Harry’s onto the top of the stack just as Ed began counting backward from ten.

“Name?” the man behind the table asked.

“Uhh, what?”

“Eight, seven, six—“ Ed called out into the microphone.

“What’s your team name? You have to have a team name so we know who won,” the man said distractedly as he took a drag from his cigarette, his eyes never straying from his bright phone screen. “Just write it at the top.”

“Oh, right, uhh—“

Louis glanced backward toward their booth to see Harry refilling his beer glass from a fresh pitcher, his head thrown back laughing at something Liam was saying. They hadn’t discussed a team name.

He heard Ed shout ‘four!’ as he stood racking his brain for something witty. Nothing.

“Shit.”

He leaned down and scribbled the first thing that came to his mind across the top of the paper as Ed’s shouts of ‘Three! Two! One!’ rang out, marking the end of the game and the deadline to submit the answer sheets. 

The bored man behind the table took the paper from Louis’ grip and read the mess of hastily written letters scrawled in the top margin.

“Larry.”

 

******

 

“You’re tiny,” Harry teased playfully.

“You’re cute.”

“You’re drunk.”

Louis grinned up at him from his spot on the rug, his legs folded kindergarten-style beneath him and crossed at the bare skin of his ankles. His vision swam as he watched Harry reach down and tuck a piece of stray fringe off of his face and behind his ear. They had won that free bar tab after all, making their taxi fare home the only cost for the entire night. Victory. 

“Scotch is such a sophisticated drink, don’t you think?” Louis slurred as he stared down into his glass. “Cultured men drink Scotch. My grandfather drank Scotch. And Brandy. Maybe I’ll get some Brandy and we can talk about art. Literature. Politics. Cultured topics.”

He brought the glass to his face and missed his mouth completely, a puddle of golden liquid blurting onto his shoulder by mistake.

“Mmm, really hits the spot.”

“Why do you even have Scotch?” Harry asked as he looked down into his own glass skeptically. He took a whiff and wrinkled his nose. “This smells like it’s already been drank and thrown back up.”

“Step-dad gave me a bottle when I graduated Uni,” Louis sat the glass precariously on the rug beside him. “I dunno why he gave it to me, seeing as I hate whiskey and all. This floor isn’t very comfortable.”

“I have to pee,” Harry said. Louis watched as he took off down the hall toward Louis’ bathroom. “Don’t fall asleep on that rug. I’m in no state to be carrying you to bed tonight.”

“I thought you said I was tiny?” Louis called out over his shoulder. 

Harry’s laugh echoed off the walls in his wake. The most beautiful sound. Louis loved that sound. Music to his ears. 

His hand reached out for the glass sitting beside him. His clumsy fingers knocked it over instead. Precarious, indeed.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He watched as the Scotch spread out and soaked into the tightly woven fibers. “Fuck.”

He hoisted himself up onto his feet with the help of the coffee table behind him, wavering slightly before pointing himself in the direction of the kitchen. He wasn’t sure if he and Liam owned cleaning supplies other than some counter spray and dish soap, but he assumed that if they did, they would be in the kitchen.

He pulled open the cabinet doors beneath the sink. The old hinges creaked under the weight of a very drunk Louis, rusty and aged from years of abuse by previous tenants. He rummaged around in search of a carpet cleaner and finally landed on a bright orange can of something labeled Rug-Buddy. Liam had a thing for the bargain brands.

Louis stood up slowly and made his way back toward the living room. The hardwoods were cold under his bare feet as he walked.

He knelt down in front of the wet spot on the rug and popped the cap off of the aerosol can.

“Shake well before use,” he read aloud. “Hold six to eight inches from surface and spray.”

He shook the can clumsily before aiming a steady stream at the spill from a distance much closer than six inches. He fully saturated the spot before releasing and settling back onto his heels, waiting for the cleaner to do its bidding.

He eyed his work skeptically as the rug began to foam violently in front of him. Louis brought the can close to his face and read the label.

“For use on aggressive, set-in stains only.”

He looked back down at the rug in mild alarm as the white, thick bubbles spread out far beyond the circumference of the spill.

“That looks good,” Harry said sarcastically from behind him. “Liam will never notice.”

“Shut up.”

Louis attempted to scoop some of the heavy foam off of the carpet with his bare hand.

“I don’t think you should be touching that,” Harry said as he walked toward the kitchen. He returned momentarily with an old dishtowel for Louis to clean himself up with. “It looks… aggressive.”

Louis took the towel and wiped the foam from between his fingers. His palm began to burn.

“I think this is corrosive,” he mumbled, frowning down at his reddening skin. “I think it’s eating my skin off.”

Harry sat down heavily on the rug beside him, knocking his heels together clumsily as he attempted to kick off his shiny boots. Louis watched him in amusement, his brow crumpling adorably as his long fingers drunkenly tried to yank the shoes from his feet.

“I love you,” Louis murmured.

“Come here.”

Harry motioned toward his chest as he leaned backward and sprawled out on the rug. His head nearly touched the base of the oversized chair behind him.

“Let’s just rest our eyes a bit before going to bed. Just for a moment. Feels miles away.”

Louis relaxed into Harry’s side and rested his head on the soft skin where his chest met his arm. He felt himself fading into sleep the moment he shut his eyes. Heavy darkness closed in on him before the room even had time to start spinning.

“Will you come with me tomorrow?” Harry asked from a faraway place.

“Do you love me?” 

“Yes. God, yes.”

He squeezed Harry around the middle in quiet acceptance of his invitation before his body went heavy and sleep overtook him.

 

******  
13.2

THE PARENTS  
Sunday, September 27, 2015

HARRY  
******

 

“Well, isn’t this just quite the sight?”

Liam’s voice bounced around in Harry’s very confused, very sore head. It was very loud. So loud. Amplified like he was speaking into a megaphone an inch away from Harry’s ear. 

He heard Louis groan miserably from somewhere to his right. He reached out instinctively for him, but his hand was met with blank space. The movement made him nauseous.

“What the hell?”

He heard Zayn’s voice as he blinked one eye open to be greeted by a blinding light, sending a pain through his skull which somehow managed to be both sharp and dull simultaneously. His stomach quaked uncertainly. His lower back ached terribly.

“Oh my God,” he heard Louis’ strained voice moan. “I’m dying.”

Harry opened the other eye and allowed himself a moment to adjust to the brightness. Sunlight poured in through the large, living room window directly above where he lay sprawled out on the rug. He turned his head to the side to see Louis tucked underneath the coffee table in the fetal position with one arm thrown over his face.

“Fucking hell,” Harry groaned as he rolled over onto his side. He reached one arm around his waist to rub at his sore muscles, seeking relief. “My back. Feels broken.”

“I’m dying,” Louis repeated. "Actually dying."

“We must have fallen asleep here."

“Ah, yes, thank you, detective,” Louis grumbled. “Doubt I would’ve been able to work that out myself.”

“A smartass even on the brink of death," Harry murmured. "Impressive.”

He heard sniggering accompanied by the unmistakable sound of a camera shutter. He tilted his head up to see Liam’s phone pointed downward toward where they lay, he and Zayn both trying and failing to stifle their laughter behind their fists.

“Think I’ll frame this,” Liam grinned down at his phone. “What do you think, Z? Would make a great Christmas card for their folks.”

“Nah, hold onto it. Show it to their kids someday. Use it for blackmail.”

“I’d punch you in the balls, Liam, if I didn’t think I’d vomit in the process,” Louis grumbled.

Harry slowly raised himself up onto his elbows. His head throbbed and his t-shirt stuck to his back with sweat. The heady scent of liquor seeped from his pores. He felt like shit. Moving wasn’t helping, but he really needed a piss.

“Why are you here so early?” Louis asked, making no effort to move from his spot on the floor. 

Harry stood and stabilized himself on the armrest of the chair, straightening his sore back and winced in pain. He would need to make an appointment to get adjusted.

“Okay, first of all, technically I still live here,” Liam said. “And second, it’s almost noon.”

“Oh my God,” alarm set in as Harry sluggishly traipsed down the hallway toward the toilet, “Liam, dinner is in three hours. Oh my God.”

“Plenty of time for you to take a shower and some pain meds and hydrate,” Liam’s cheerful voice called out after him. “Do you want me to get you guys some food?”

“No, I want to pee,” Harry grunted as he rounded the corner the loo. “And maybe die.”

 

******

 

“Did I dream that you invited me along last night?"

Louis turned his head to smile at Harry.

After their unceremonious wake-up call, both men had showered, taken some medicine, and eaten a sandwich. Louis had thrown up and then eaten another sandwich. They were now laying side-by-side and spread eagle on Louis’ bed with cool, damp rags on each of their foreheads. 

They were supposed to leave for the Payne’s house in half an hour.

“No, you didn’t dream it,” Harry said. 

He smiled softly up at the ceiling before turning his head to meet Louis' gaze. His features were soft in the afternoon sunlight as he closed his eyes and relaxed his muscles underneath the cool towel. 

“Did I dream you agreeing to come?”

“No, you didn’t dream it,” Louis murmured. “Are you sure you want me there?”

“I want you everywhere I am. As long as you don’t mind.”

“I don’t." 

Harry watched as Louis reached up and removed the washcloth from his forehead before opening his eyes to look at Harry. 

“I’m glad that you want me around.”

“Package deal, as far as I’m concerned,” Harry smiled. “Plus, I think Liam will be glad to have you there, too. Bit of a buffer. I think he’s nervous.”

“Like you’re not?”

“Oh, no, I’m terrified,” Harry said. “There is a very real, very distinct possibility that my first encounter with my birth parents will end in me vomiting all over them.”

“They’re good people,” Louis said. Harry felt him lace his fingers through his own and squeeze reassuringly. “A bit less open with Liam than I am with my mum or you are with yours, but still very, very nice people. It’s going to be fine.”

“I know,” Harry said.

And he did.

 

******

 

Liam’s parents were great. Truly, honestly, great. It was strange, though, how Harry had been expecting to see more of himself in them, but he found that he felt more of a pull toward Liam than either of the Paynes. Regardless, they were really nice people.

“Would you like more spaghetti?” Karen asked Harry through watery eyes. 

She had been crying steadily since they had arrived two hours earlier. Harry suspected that she had been crying most of the day, actually.

“No, thank you, I’m stuffed,” he grinned. “It was amazing.”

“Anytime, dear,” she sniffled. “I wish Ruth could have made it, but she’s so busy with work these days. We will have to do it again when she comes home in a few months.”

Harry felt Louis’ hand rest gently against his thigh underneath the table. 

“Count me in,” Harry said happily. “I’m excited to meet her. Liam’s told me a little bit about her, but not much.”

“We don’t really get to see her much these days now that she moved to the States,” Liam said. “Feels like I don’t know her myself, sometimes.”

“She’ll be home for a few weeks during the holidays,” Karen said as she took another piece of bread. “We can all get back together then.”

“So, Harry,” Geoff interrupted. 

He leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach good-naturedly, hiccupping softly into his napkin. He had consumed an impressive amount of Malbec during dinner. Harry's stomach churned at the thought of wine.

“Did you always know that you wanted to be a lawyer?”

“Oh, uhh—“

He was caught off guard by the question. How much detail was too much detail for a first meeting with your birth parents? How does one explain that you decided to be a lawyer when your dickhole ex-boyfriend shit all over your dreams and told you to go to law school instead?

“Yep, pretty much,” Harry lied. “It’s interesting.”

“Wow," Liam said. "Try to contain your enthusiasm." 

Louis threw a pea at his face.

“Louis, don’t throw food,” Karen's tone was that of a mother scolding her child. She obviously considered Louis family. “Sorry, Harry. You were saying?”

“Oh, nothing,” Harry shook his head, desperately hoping for a change of subject. “Just that it’s interesting. Working in a law office, I mean.”

“I couldn’t handle the yelling,” Karen said, shaking her head. She shoveled more potatoes onto Liam’s plate, completely ignoring his protests that he was full. “I watch Court TV, you know. Too much yelling for me. I’m surprised you enjoy that, you’ve got such a gentle nature.”

“I don’t really get to yell,” Harry took a large sip of water and absentmindedly pushed his food around on his plate with his fork. “That’s not really the kind of work that I do. I mostly do small depositions in our office, not in a court room. Lots of paperwork. Rarely any yelling, unless it’s me at the printer.”

“And you like that?” Karen asked.

“Uhh,” Harry looked sideways toward Louis for support. “Honestly, no. Not really. I’ve been kind of thinking that I made a mistake here recently, to be honest.”

Harry felt Louis squeeze his thigh. He also felt like an idiot.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Geoff said happily as he took another large bite of his spaghetti. “You’re young. There’s plenty of time to change course. It’s never too late to start over.”

Harry thought about the fact that only twenty-seven years ago, the Paynes were jobless, broke, and on the verge of losing their house. Making the hard decision to place their child for adoption. At the end of their rope. Rock bottom. Looking at them now, you would never know any of that. They have so much. They changed their course. 

“Thank you,” he said to Geoff. “That’s actually really encouraging. Thanks.” 

He dropped his hand to his lap and grabbed Louis’ fingers. 

“So do you have something in mind?” Karen asked. “Something that you’d rather be doing?”

So they were still on this topic, unfortunately. Harry sighed and reached for his untouched wine glass. He felt like shit, but he needed a drink.

“Um, well, I was studying music before I switched to pre-law,” Harry said. “I’d love to be able to get back into that. Do something with music, maybe.”

“Music! You don’t say?” Geoff clapped his hands together in delight. “Liam, did you hear that? He likes music!”

“I know, dad,” Liam said patiently. “We’ve actually played together a couple of times.”

“What?” Karen was clearly surprised. “You didn’t tell us that! Where? What did you play? Harry, you know that Liam went to school for music and singing, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry grinned across the table at Liam’s beet red face. He felt Louis’ body shaking beside him as he tried to stifle his giggles. “His voice is amazing. He's really talented.”

Liam was staring straight down at his plate and aggressively avoiding eye contact.

“Well, I think it would be wonderful if you could do something with music,” Karen said. Her voice was kind. "The world needs more artists." 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him,” Louis squeezed Harry’s thigh. “Just because you thought that you wanted to do one thing when you were twenty doesn’t mean that you should be cornered into that at twenty-seven. It's simple. Do what makes you happy.”

“Listen to Louis, Harry,” Geoff nodded agreeably in his direction. “My dad used to say, ‘Find a job that you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life!’ And he was right about that! Wasn't right about much else, but he was right about that.”

Harry felt thoroughly mortified by everyone commenting on his current life crisis, but he was also grateful for the support. He looked over at Louis and watched as he speared a potato on his fork and resumed teasing Liam.

Louis’ support was worth the most.

“Well, this meal was incredible,” said Louis, leaning back in his chair and sighing contentedly. “I’ve always loved your spaghetti, Karen.”

“I’m just so glad that you could join us,” she said. Harry noticed a fresh bout of tears welling up in her eyes. He didn't know how she had any moisture left in there. “Harry, I’m sure that Louis has told you all about how long he and Liam have been friends. Like a son to me, he is.”

“Yeah, since they were boys,” Harry smiled at Liam as Louis sneakily tossed another pea at his face. 

“Funny thing is, Louis and I did _not_ get on in the beginning,” Liam said, attempting to dodge the barrage of peas being fired at his forehead while Karen distractedly dabbed her eyes. “He was a menace. Still is, really.”

“I resent that, Payno,” Louis huffed. “We got on right from the start.”

“Did not.”

“Did, too!”

“Do you remember what you did the first time we met?” 

Liam quirked and eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, patiently waiting for Louis' response.

“Politely introduced myself and asked you to join me for a game of footie?” he answered sweetly.

“Wrong. You squirted me in the face with a water gun as I walked home from school.”

“Well, you looked a little warm.”

“It was early April,” Liam said dryly. “I was wearing a scarf.”

“Dunno why you’re complaining, it all worked out in the end, didn’t it?” 

Karen reached across the table to grab Harry’s empty plate. He went to protest but she simply shook her head and carried it off toward the kitchen, leaving Louis and Liam still bickering at the table and tossing uneaten scraps of food at each other. 

Harry sat back in his chair and draped his arm around the back of Louis', lazily dragging his fingertips over the soft fabric stretched tight across his shoulder blades. 

“I remember meeting Louis for the first time,” Geoff laughed. “You were wearing these bright red pants, and your hair was all shaggy like one of those Backstreets Boys or the In-Synchs—“

“Backstreet Boys,” Louis corrected under his breath. “N’Sync.”

“—and you had these fuzzy boots on. Do you remember those? Fuzzy, winter boots even though it was spring and there wasn't a snowflake in sight.”

“Please tell me they were Uggs,” Harry begged. “If you love me, you’ll tell me they were Uggs.”

“I can confirm, they were Uggs,” Liam smiled devilishly.

“And braces! Always in those braces,” Geoff added with a chuckle. “Quite stylish.”

“Do you still have the braces?” Harry whispered quietly into Louis’ ear. “I have some ideas.”

“Yes, well, thank you all very much for this trip down memory lane,” Louis clapped his hands and stood from his seat, pretending to leave. “Been a blast, thanks for having us.”

“Such a baby, Tommo,” Liam teased. “For the record, I found the braces quite cute.”

“Liam had an Ellen Degeneres haircut,” Louis huffed as he plopped back down into his seat. He crossed his arms over his chest in annoyance. "Actually, that might be insulting to Ellen."

“It was dodgy, I’ll give you that,” Liam nodded and tilted his beer toward Louis.

Karen reemerged from the kitchen and leaned across the table to collect the rest of the plates and silverware, shaking her head fondly at their banter. Harry got the impression that she had heard more than her fair share of these conversations over the years.

“Let me help you with that,” he said.

He stood from the table to follow Karen into the kitchen, catching Louis’ eye as he passed. Louis smiled and sent an encouraging, subtle wink his way. 

Their voices faded into the background as Harry rounded the corner and met Karen at the sink. He carefully took one of the plates and scraped the leftover food into the bin. 

“Oh, Harry, you don’t have to help,” Karen smiled. “I can do it, you go sit down.”

He saw her eyes begin to water. He really didn’t think she had stopped crying the entire night. She was a miracle of science, honestly.

“No, no, I want to help,” he argued. 

He walked the empty plate over to the sink and stood beside her, waiting for her to finish rinsing the one in her hands before handing her the other. 

“Thank you for having me,” he said.

“Oh, love, of course.”

She sat the plate down in the sink and turned to face Harry. Her eyes were wet but she was smiling as she pulled him into a tight hug. 

“Thank you for coming,” she whispered, squeezing him gently and sniffling into his hair. “I’ve been wanting this for a very long time.”

“Me, too.”

 

******  
Monday, September 28, 2015  
******

 

The shrill ring of Harry’s alarm clock cut through his sleep. He had been dreaming that he was onstage with Cher, performing a rendition of The Rolling Stones’ “Satisfaction.” His hair had been braided. It was a good dream.

He groaned and reached out blindly toward his end table, his fingers searching clumsily for the snooze button and nearly knocking his glass of water onto the floor in the process. He finally found it and switched off his alarm. 

The happiness he had felt when he’d gone to bed last night had vanished completely, replaced instead by the creeping dread that came with the thought of facing another Monday with Simon. 

It made him want to vomit. Or maybe that was all the alcohol he’d consumed within the past two days. He needed to cleanse.

He shivered as he picked up his phone and typed out a quick text to Louis.

 **6:03am:**  
I hate waking up without you. It’s cold. –H

He tossed his phone onto Louis’ empty pillow beside him and swung his feet out from under his quilt. Piss, shower, work for a quick ten hours or so, and then it would be time to cook dinner with Louis. No big deal when you look at it like that. Just work. Just ten hours. And then do it again tomorrow. And the next day. And the next forty years. 

Harry sighed. He pushed himself off of the bed and headed down the hallway toward the shower.

 

******

 

“Nice of you to join us,” Simon muttered without even glancing up at Harry. 

He sat behind his large, mahogany desk, eyes beady and focused on his computer screen. Harry wasn't sure who 'us' was. He was the only one in the room.

“Uhh,” Harry looked down at his watch in confusion. 7:16 am. “I’m… almost an hour early.”

“Would you like a cookie?” Simon asked sarcastically. He reached out toward a stack of folders to his right and grabbed them, tossing the entire pile lazily in Harry’s direction. “Start with these briefs. I need them summarized for me by noon. The depo starts at two o'clock.”

“You want me to summarize briefs?” 

Harry stared down to where the stack of folders lay scattered messily at his feet. 

“But a brief is already a summary,” Harry said. 

Simon’s eyes shot up toward Harry’s face from underneath his glasses.

“I want them _briefer_ ,” he said plainly. “I don’t have the time to read them in full and dick around all day like you do. Got it?”

“Sure,” Harry mumbled, bending down to gather the folders. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually,” Simon murmured, his eyes locked back on his computer screen. “Cut your fucking hair. You work in a law office for Christ's sake. You’re not at Woodstock.”

Harry felt anger rising in his chest as he gathered the papers and stood up. 

“I thought you said it was fine as long as I keep it tied back?”

“You look like an asshole,” Simon said distractedly. “Cut it.”

Anger flared red hot as the words washed over him. He loved his long hair. He thought about Louis running his fingers through it and tugging on the ends to watch the curls spring back, braiding it lazily as Harry rested is head against his thigh before bed. 

Simon had said a lot of shit to Harry, but he was done.

“No,” he said.

His voice was low and steady as he sat the files down on the edge of Simon’s desk and took a step back. Simon glanced at the folders and then up to Harry’s face. His eyes looked dangerous.

“I’m sorry,” he said evenly. “'No' what?”

“No,” Harry repeated. “I’m not doing this. I—“

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and took a deep breath.

“I quit.”

Simon stared up at Harry for a beat before dropping his eyes back to the folders, then bringing them back up to Harry, then back down to the folders, then back to Harry again. Harry thought back to Louis’ words from last night.

Do what makes you happy.

“Alright, fine, you don’t have to summarize the briefs,” Simon said. “No need to be so dramatic. Jesus.”

“No,” Harry said firmly. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. “I quit. Fuck the briefs, I quit anyway. I hate this job, it is shitty, you are shitty, and I quit. I am quitting this job. I quit.”

Harry turned and took two steps toward Simon’s door before he heard laughter rising from behind him. He turned to see Simon shaking his head and chuckling. The anger flared back.

“What?” Harry asked.

“How the fuck do you plan on getting into law school?” Simon asked, still laughing into his fist. “You clearly haven’t thought this through. You’re done, dumbass. Congratulations. You just threw your entire future away over a fucking haircut.”

Harry turned his body fully to face Simon.

“I’m not going to law school,” he said simply. “I hate this. Everything about this. And I refuse to let my future be a life where I wake up and have to drag myself out of bed and into this God forsaken place or somewhere like it only to have you or some asshole just like you ride my dick about every little thing all day every day.”

Harry breathed deeply and turned back toward the door.

“Thanks for the opportunity,” he said over his shoulder, “and for being such an absolute prick. It really helped me figure all of that out.”

He walked out of the office, leaving Simon still seated behind his desk in stunned silence. He grabbed the only personal item he had from his desk – a selfie of he and Louis they had snapped in front of the restaurant on their fourth date – and made his way happily toward the lobby.

He felt amazing. He felt like he could run a marathon, or lift a school bus, or go skydiving, or run for president. 

He raised his middle finger up over his shoulder as he walked out. 

 

******  
13.3

THE PARENTS  
Monday, September 28, 2015

LOUIS  
******

 

 **Haz, 6:45pm:**  
What’s your ETA? –H 

**6:48pm: **  
be there in 5 traffic is awful. please have wine poured****

**Haz, 6:50pm:**  
Already taken care of. See you soon. I have a surprise. –H

Louis tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and turned up the music in an attempt to drown out his irritation. He had sat through four fucking lights now waiting to turn onto Harry’s street. Four. 

He finally got the green light and took the turn a little quicker than a police officer would approve of, but fuck it. He was ready to see Harry. 

He racked his brain for what the surprise might be as he pulled up in front of the building and parked. Flowers? The new James Bay album he had been wanting? Harry in a thong cooking him dinner, maybe?

He took the stairs two at a time and burst through Harry’s door to be greeted with the sounds of Kodaline and the scent of shrimp wafting through the flat.

“Honey, I’m home!” he called out obnoxiously.

“In the kitchen,” Harry shouted over the music. 

Louis kicked his old Vans off by the door and skipped through the flat toward Harry’s voice. He felt better already. 

“Where’s my wine, that traffic was fucking terrible,” he said dramatically. 

He reached out for the glass of Chardonnay on the counter before plopping himself into a chair to watch Harry cook. 

“Thought I was never going to get here.”

Harry turned and smiled at him from across the kitchen through the long ringlets of hair that were spilling into his face. He dropped the spatula onto the pan and walked toward Louis, nudging himself between his knees and bending down for a kiss. 

“Hi,” Harry smiled against his lips.

“Hey, you. Smells good in here." 

Harry pulled back and headed toward the stove to resume his work.

“How was work?” he chirped. 

He seemed to be in a really good mood tonight. Maybe that meant he would eat Louis’ arse later.

“It was alright,” Louis took a sip of wine and stared at the shirt pulled tight across Harry's back. “Tried to give my boss another demo. He said this one sounded like…” Louis racked his brain for the exact words that Magee had used, “...oh, yes. ‘Feral Cats Fighting in an Alley.’ I think that means he didn’t like it.”

“Sorry, love,” Harry frowned. He tossed some herbs into the skillet onto the sizzling shrimp. “Why's he got to be such a dick all the time?” 

“If I could just get him to like _one_ of them, you know?” Louis grumbled. “It’s getting to the point where I don’t even want to try anymore because it feels like it’s doing more harm than good. I want to work in A &R, so I’m trying to prove myself by handing him artists that I think have potential. But why would he hire me to A&R if he hates everything I give him?”

“I don’t think you should give up just yet,” Harry said slowly.

Louis watched as he pushed his hair out of his eyes and leaned against the counter by the stove, sipping his wine. He was wearing his Good Lookin’ is Cookin apron. He looked ridiculous. He looked hot. 

“If you stop trying then he’ll _really_ have no reason to hire you to A &R. Like you said, all it might take is for him to like one. Just one.”

Louis sighed and sat his glass on the table. 

“Okay, enough about work,” he clapped his hands together in front of him. “What’s the surprise?”

Harry chuckled and turned back toward the stove to stir the shrimp around in the pan. Louis could smell the onions and garlic and watched as Harry poured a splash of his wine into the skillet. Harry was always pouring alcohol into the food he cooked. Louis had never understood how he knew which to use or how much to pour, but it always tasted good.

“I quit my job,” Harry said matter-of-factly, his back still turned to Louis.

“Sorry?” Louis asked. “Didn’t catch that.”

“I quit my job,” Harry repeated.

“That’s what I thought you said,” Louis furrowed his brow, “but I thought that surely I misheard you. You quit. Your job. You quit your job?”

“Yep,” Harry chirped. He continued sautéing the shrimp in the skillet over the hot stove in front of him. “How much garlic do you want? Do you want to stink until tomorrow or ‘til next week?”

“Haz,” Louis said, completely ignoring Harry’s question as he stood up from his seat. “You quit your job. Why? I mean, obviously I know why, you hated it, but… why? What happened?”

“Because of you,” Harry said simply.

“Because of me,” Louis repeated calmly. “Okay… well put a pin in that because we will be revisiting it, but do you have another job lined up?”

“Nope.”

“Nope. Okay. What… Harry… what are you going to do for _money_?” Louis asked as alarm set in. "What were you thinking?"

His talks with Harry over the past few months about not needing to settle for a job that he hated, not being afraid to take a risk and do something new… he had never intended for unemployment to be that new thing. 

“How are you going to support yourself? Have you completely lost your mind?”

Harry chuckled as he reached into the cabinet above the stove and rummaged around for some more spices, seemingly unconcerned with the situation at hand. Louis was beginning to feel irritated. 

“I’ve got some savings,” Harry shrugged, “and Ed mentioned that I could pick up a few shifts bartending if I started running low on cash. I bartended for a year back in Uni. I’m sure it’s like riding a bike. Don't worry, it’s going to be fine.”

“Harry, seriously, how are you so calm right now?” 

Louis was on the verge of yelling as he took a couple of steps toward where Harry stood by the stove, the irritation he had managed to contain up until this point finally bubbling to the surface. 

“Fuck, would you turn around and look at me? Why are you making me talk to the back of your head? Why are you acting like this is no big deal? You have no job, you have no income, what are you going to—“

Louis stopped as he saw Harry’s shoulders sag and his head drop forward. His chest deflated as he let out a long sigh. 

“I thought you said you don’t care about any of that,” he murmured, still facing away from Louis.

Shit.

“Harry, no, no, turn around and look at me.” 

Louis stepped forward and grabbed him around the waist, forcing Harry to turn and face him. He brought both of his hands up to Harry’s cheeks and rocked forward on his toes to press a strong, forceful kiss against his lips. Harry tasted like wine. 

“That is absolutely _not_ what this is about. Whether you are rich or poor or somewhere in between, I don’t care. I love you and I’m always going to love you. If you’re living in a cardboard box on the side of the street, you’ll need to scoot over because I’m moving in with you. It doesn’t matter.” 

Louis sighed and pulled Harry into a hug, gently rubbing his back as he felt Harry drop his forehead onto his shoulder. He had never made Harry sad before. It sucked.

“I just didn’t expect for you to up and quit because of something I said,” Louis said quietly. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. Literally ever. I don’t want you to make a mistake because you listened to me.”

“No, I made the mistake when I listened to Aiden,” Harry said. “I never should have changed the entire course of my life just because he told me to.” 

Louis felt Harry sigh. He could feel his breath against his neck.

“I just couldn’t go back there, Louis,” he said quietly. “Not one more fucking day. I _hated_ it. It made me so unhappy. And the minute I walked out today, I felt like… like an enormous weight had been lifted from my shoulders. And yeah, I don’t know what I'm going to do. Hopefully I have enough in savings to cover things while I figure it out, and yeah, I’m a little scared. But that fear is better than the absolute depression I felt at the thought of spending the rest of my life doing _that_.”

Louis rubbed Harry’s back and placed a gentle kiss into the side of his hair. 

“I want you to be happy, Haz,” he said. “If this is what you need to do to be happy, then I support you one-hundred percent, please know that. It just feels like you’re doing the same thing now that you did then, if you quit because of me.” 

“But it was because of you.” 

Harry pulled back and put both his hands on Louis’ shoulders, looking him straight in the eye before continuing. His eyes were wet. Louis felt guilty as shit.

“I think before I met you, I didn’t realize how unhappy I was at that job because the rest of my life was kind of bland, too. But you came along and this – this thing between us – it’s so _not_ bland, and it really made all of the lackluster things in my life stick out.”

Louis smiled and wrapped his fingers around Harry’s wrists. 

“Knowing that you'll be there to support me while I try to figure this out just gave me the courage to do what I wanted to do all along. Things might be a little hard for a while. And I am a little scared. But at the same time, I’m not scared at all. I just feel… happy.”

He pulled Louis into his chest and pressed a kiss into his hair. Louis loved him. A lot.

“There is a difference between telling me what to do, which is what Aiden did, and telling me that I deserve to be happy,” Harry murmured. “Telling me that I don’t have to settle. Telling me that you’ll support my decisions, whatever they may be. Those two things are not the same, Louis.”

Louis sighed and smiled. He could smell the shrimp beginning to burn.

“I look at you, and it reminds me just how good things can be. It reminds me that my happiness is rooted in something more important than a job or a paycheck. It reminds me that if one day, out of nowhere, everything else in my life just up and floated away… you and I… we're the anchor that would hold me in place. Even if I lost everything else, I’m still whole, if I’ve got you. Everything else is just noise. One look at you and I’m reminded of all of that. And nothing else...“ 

Harry waved his hand around vaguely in the air. 

“Nothing else matters.”

Louis wrapped both of his arms around Harry’s neck and pulled him into a deep, slow kiss. 

“I love you,” he whispered against Harry’s mouth. “Whatever you need from me, I’ll do it. Just say the word.” 

He squeezed Harry tight and pressed a kiss into the nape of his neck before releasing him. He glanced behind Harry to the disaster smoking behind him. 

“I hope you’re not planning on pursuing a career as a chef, though. You’re burning the hell out of these shrimp.”

Harry laughed and turned toward the stove to toss the shrimp around in the pan. Louis pressed himself against Harry’s back and wrapped his arms around his waist as he finished cooking, not releasing his hold even as Harry walked backward to dump the hot food onto the plates on the counter. 

Louis giggled and squeezed tighter, plastered to Harry’s backside as they moved, stumbling and attempting not to end up with a floor full of greasy shrimp.

“You’re a menace,” Harry said fondly as he dropped the pan into the sink. “An absolute fucking menace.”

“You love it.” 

“I do."

 

*******  
Friday, October 30, 2015  
*******

Louis reached over to his passenger seat and grabbed his laptop bag before climbing out of the car and slamming the door behind him. Thank Christ it was Friday. This week could fuck right off.

He stood on the sidewalk in front of Harry’s building and took a deep breath, letting the crisp, autumn air fill his lungs. Fallen leaves crunched underfoot as he threw the strap of his bag across his shoulder and headed toward the front door. He could hear the faint sound of music from somewhere above him. 

He looked up to see a window cracked on the second floor with vintage Rolling Stones tracks pouring through the opening before getting lost among the breeze.

Harry.

He took the steps two at a time and rounded the corner to Harry’s door. Finding it unlocked, he gently pushed it open and crept inside the small entryway, any sound he made immediately drowned out by the loud music pulsing through the flat. 

Harry sat cross-legged and shirtless on the floor with his back facing Louis. 

“Uhh, Haz?” 

Louis took two steps forward as Harry startled at the sound of his voice. He turned to look over his shoulder, a large smile on his face and paint smeared across his nose and cheek. 

“What are you doing?”

“Lou! I didn’t even hear you come in!” he laughed brightly. Louis watched as he dropped a paintbrush into a cup of water and stood from his spot on the floor, pulling Louis into a kiss. “You’re early.”

“Yeah, I just had to get out of there,” he said, his eyes glued to a large canvas propped against the coffee table. “Magee was being an even bigger prick than usual and then Ben started talking about his new goldfish for thirty minutes… anyway, I just needed to leave. So. What are you doing?”

“Oh, this?” 

Harry looked down nonchalantly at the canvas as though he had forgotten it was there and as if this whole scene was entirely normal. 

“I’m painting. I decided to paint!”

“I can see that.” 

Louis took a step forward and stopped directly in front of the artwork. 

“Why are you painting a large, black vagina?”

“It’s a Georgia O’Keefe painting," Harry explained. "She’s a famous artist. It’s a flower. A ‘jack-in-the-pulpit’. Not a vagina.”

“Oh,” Louis tilted his head to the side, trying very hard to see anything other than a large, black vagina staring back at him. “It’s… nice.”

“It’s not done,” Harry said as he plopped back down in front of the canvas. 

Paint-splattered newspapers littered the floor around him, protecting the rug from what looked to be a particularly violent battle Harry had wrought with the color blue. He appeared to have lost. 

“I think it will look less… labial… when it’s finished,” he mused. “I just need to add some shading and a little bit of foliage. That should make it better.”

Louis dropped his laptop bag to the floor beside the sofa and sprawled out onto the cushions facing Harry. He watched him pick up the paintbrush and dip it into some green paint, his brow creased in concentration as he resumed his work. 

The painting was fucking terrible, but he looked adorable.

“So,” Louis said tentatively, watching Harry from over the top of the canvas. “Since when do you paint?”

“Well I’ve always wanted to paint something."

He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, completely oblivious to the spot of green he had just smeared across his cheek. Louis bit down on his lip to stifle his laughter. 

“And since I don't have a job at the moment I have a lot of time on my hands, so I just decided to have a go at it.”

“And how did you decide on… this particular painting?”

“I wanted something, like, natural,” Harry mused. “Like a tree, or a flower or something. And mum had this Georgia O’Keefe book growing up and I always liked the paintings so I just Googled some and found this one and I had a lot of black paint on hand anyway from when we painted the front of Zayn's drum set which was perfect for this painting—”

He glanced up and met Louis' gaze over the top of the canvas. Louis was half-amused, half-exasperated. 

“What? Is that stupid? This is stupid, isn’t it?”

“No, love, it’s not stupid,” Louis said, standing from his spot on the couch and taking a seat beside Harry on the newspapers. He reached up and tucked a rogue curl behind his ear. “Nothing you do is stupid.”

“Then why does it look like you’re trying not to laugh?”

“Well, for starters, you have paint smeared across your face,” he said, leaning forward to kiss the green tip of Harry’s nose. “Also, this really does look like an enormous vagina. But mostly, I’m just really proud of you.”

“Proud? Why?”

“Yes, proud.” 

Louis dropped his head to Harry’s shoulder and the two men stared at the painting in silence for a moment.

“Why are you proud,” Harry asked quietly.

He tilted his head to kiss Louis on the forehead. 

“Because you’re brave,” Louis took Harry’s fingers between his own and squeezed gently. “It is a brave thing to admit that you’re unhappy, and it takes courage to change your entire life, and here you are, just doing it anyway. Just doing whatever you think might make you happy until you figure it out. That’s bravery.”

Harry sighed and picked up his brush with his free hand, dipping it into the black paint and absentmindedly stroking what Louis assumed was the clitoris. 

“I just wish one of the things that make me happy also happened to be something that could make me money.”

“You’ll find it,” Louis said soothingly. “And in the meantime you can just enjoy whatever you want to. Just enjoy figuring it out. I’ll be your sugar daddy. I mean I can’t afford to buy you anything more expensive than, like, a pack of chewing gum, but I will buy you the best chewing gum that money can buy. Sugar-free.”

The newspapers crunched underneath them as Harry leaned over and tackled Louis to the floor. Wet paint smeared from Harry’s cheek onto Louis’ jaw as he cackled into Harry’s hair.

“I like this look,” Louis purred into his ear. “The struggling artist. It’s very… sexy.”

He felt Harry’s hands tugging the hemline of his shirt up and out of his pants. He arched his back so that Harry could lift it up and over his head, tossing it onto the floor behind them before placing one hand on either of Louis’ hipbones and straddling his thighs. 

Louis watched as Harry turned his hips and reached back toward the coffee table, his long torso stretching as he grabbed his paintbrush. Louis reached up and dragged his fingernails down Harry’s side, watching the skin turn red in their wake. 

Harry turned back toward him, paintbrush in hand, his big green eyes dark and sweeping over Louis’ chest. 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

He leaned forward and kissed Louis gently. His lips moved from Louis’ mouth to the skin just below his ear where he repeated the words, quieter than the first time. 

“I love you.” 

He kissed a trail from the side of his neck down to his collarbone. 

“I love you… I love you… I love you. You are my dream.”

Louis reached up and wound his fingers in Harry’s curls. He tugged gently, panting as Harry continued kissing his chest and torso, whispering sweet nothings against his skin. 

“I want to paint you.”

Louis laughed up at the ceiling. Harry’s head bounced against his belly as it shook with laughter. 

“I’ll be like Rose from Titanic,” Louis giggled. “Paint me like one of your French girls—“

“No,” Harry took Louis’ nipple between his teeth and tugged. “I want to paint _you_.”

Louis stopped laughing and inhaled sharply as the tip of the cold paintbrush dragged across his skin. He watched as Harry rested his cheek against his sternum and slowly painted five large, black petals around his nipple to produce a lopsided flower. 

“You are beautiful,” Harry whispered as he reached over and dipped the tip of the brush into a well of red paint. “You are so beautiful. You’re art.”

He moved to the other side of Louis’ chest and dragged the wet bristles across his skin, leaving a small H directly over Louis’ heart.

“Please never leave,” Louis whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He watched as Harry painted a small, square box around the H. He dipped the brush back into the black paint and traced a small triangle directly on top of it. A little house.

“You are my home.”

Louis reached both hands up and took Harry’s cheeks into his palms, pulling his face down toward his own and crashing their lips together with far more force than he had intended.

“Ow, fuck, shit, sorry,” he groaned. 

Harry just laughed into the side of Louis’ neck, the wet paint on his chest smearing against Harry’s skin. He looked up at Louis with his green eyes twinkling and dimple on full display. He was gorgeous. 

“I love you so much,” Louis murmured. "More than anything."

He watched as Harry reached up and grabbed him by both wrists, pinning his hands to the paint-streaked newspaper underneath them. He inched his way up Louis’ body until he was looking down at him and straddling both thighs, his breath hot and tickling the tip of Louis’ nose.

“You are my favorite thing, Lou.” 

He dropped his lips to Louis’ mouth, taking his bottom lip gently between his teeth and tugging playfully. 

“My absolute favorite thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice.


	14. The Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis sets a goal. Harry sets one, too. 
> 
> They both head to Doncaster.

******  
14.1

THE VISIT  
Friday November 20, 2015

HARRY  
******

“You know, I had kind of hoped that I wouldn’t be unemployed the first time I met your family,” Harry grumbled.

His face was pressed against the cool glass of the car window as he watched the trees fly by. They were about fifteen minutes outside of Doncaster, and he was nervous. 

He felt Louis’ hand come to rest gently on his forearm as he turned his head and smiled at him from across the center console. He loved watching Louis drive, even if he was a danger to society behind the wheel.

“You’re not _unemployed_ ,” Louis said, squeezing his arm. “You’re a painting, bartending, musician-slash-writer. You’re a struggling artist.”

“I bartended once,” Harry grumbled. “And I made fifteen pounds. And my painting sucked.”

“Hey, stop that,” Louis shot him a sideways glare before turning back to look at the dark road ahead. “They are going to love you. You don’t need to be worried about any of that.”

Harry sighed and focused on the bumper sticker on the car in front of them, barely illuminated by their headlights. _HANG UP AND DRIVE_. 

“What if they think I’m a loser?”

“A loser!?” Louis cracked up.

He had been dying to meet Louis’ family for months, but he was especially excited to meet the twins. Two was such a fun age as they learned to walk and talk and cause trouble. He couldn’t wait.

He felt like he knew all of them already from the hundreds of pictures that Louis had showed him and all of the stories that Louis had told him, but didn’t want to just know them from afar. He wanted to really _know_ them. He wanted to talk to Jay about what Louis was like as a boy. He wanted to ask Lottie if she's loving Uni. He wanted to talk to Fizzy about her plans after graduation. He wanted to ask Phoebe and Daisy how ballet and footie were going. He wanted to bounce the babies on his knee.

He wanted to be a part of it.

“They are not going to think you’re a loser,” Louis rolled his eyes. “You do realize we don’t come from money, right? There's no one to impress. No one is going to judge you.”

Harry sighed.

“I just want them to like me.”

“They are going to love you. I promise.”

He watched as Louis turned on his blinker and exited the highway. Harry reached across and turned the music up before resuming his position with his forehead pressed against the glass, his eyes unfocused as he lazily counted street lamps as they drove. 

They spent the rest of the ride in silence until Harry heard the blinker and felt the brakes. He looked over to see Louis pulling up in front of a small, two-story home with an over-crowded driveway tucked inside a row of similar houses on a sleepy street. 

“She put the lights up early this year,” Louis said thoughtfully as he parked the car. “It’s not even December, yet.”

The little brick house was modest but looked inviting. Harry smiled as he took in the wreath on the door and the many small, twinkling lights strung up on the trees and roof. He was still nervous, but he was feeling better. 

“Alright,” he took a deep breath and clapped his hands together. “Showtime.”

“Calm down, Curly,” Louis reached over and tugged playfully on one of Harry’s loose ringlets. “They’re going to love you.”

He unfastened his seatbelt and climbed out of the car. Harry waited patiently by the passenger side door for Louis to walk around and take him by the hand, leading him up the narrow walkway toward the house. 

He stopped at the front door and turned to face Harry.

“I love you,” Louis said, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I love you, too." 

He pulled back as Louis knocked twice and turned the knob, taking a deep breath as the door swung open.

Noise.

“Fizzy! Put that phone down and help your brother into his chair—“

“Mom, do you know where my blue jumper is? The one with the gold buttons—“

“Ouch! Stop hitting me! Mom, Phoebes hit me—“

“Stop hitting your sister and turn down the telly, it’s too loud—“

“Hello!” Louis called out. 

Harry hung back in the doorway as Louis made his way into the foyer. 

“Hello? We’re here!”

A round of excited shouts and the pattering of feet scattered throughout the house. Harry turned to shut the door behind them, looking up just in time to see Daisy and Phoebe round the corner and tackle their brother. 

“Oh, Jesus—“

He watched Louis huff and try to catch his breath as both girls wrapped their arms around his neck. He looked up to see two young women he recognized to be Fizzy and Lottie standing in the doorway to the kitchen, smiling and watching the scene unfold. Jay squeezed her way between the two of them and handed Ernest to Fizzy.

“Harry,” she said warmly as she bypassed Louis. “Lovely to finally meet you!”

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug. 

“Thank you so much for having me,” Harry said politely. “I’ve heard so much about all of you.”

“Oh no,” she smiled as she released him. “That’s never good.”

“No, no! All good things, I promise.”

“I wouldn’t say anything bad,” Louis said defiantly as he stood and shook the girls off of him. “Harry, this is my mum, and this is Phoebes and Daisy—“

“Nice to meet you,” Harry smiled at the twins.

“—and those two over there are Fiz and Lottie… are you going to come over here and say hello to me or no?”

Louis pursed his lips at the girls as they walked toward him for a hug. 

“And this,” he said to Harry as he took the squirmy toddler from Fizzy, “is Ernie.”

“Hello,” Harry waved at all the girls. He reached out and took Ernie from Louis, hoisting him up onto his hip and booping his nose playfully. His long, blonde hair tumbled down into his eyes. “Hi, Ernie. We’ve got the same haircut.”

“Where’s Doris?” Louis asked.

“She’s asleep,” Jay pulled her son into a hug and rocked him back and forth. “I’ve missed you, love. I’m so glad you two are here.”

Harry heard a baby crying from somewhere upstairs.

“Ah, well, we must have woken her up,” Jay said. “Louis, why don’t you and Harry take your things upstairs to your bedroom… Lotts, will you go check on the roast? I’m going to go grab Doris… Harry, you can give Ernie to Fiz while you go get your bags—“

“Do you like Breaking Bad?” Phoebe asked Harry as he turned and handed Ernie off to Fizzy. “We’ve been watching Breaking Bad and it’s soooo good—“

“Don’t tell mum, we’re not supposed to be watching,” Daisy shot Phoebe a scathing look out of the corner of her eye. "Shut up, Phoebes."

“Harry won’t tell, will you? Will you?”

“I won’t tell.”

“We’ll be right back,” Louis said.

Harry followed him out onto the front porch and let the door swing shut behind them, drowning out the noise from within. They stood in silence for a moment.

“Wow,” Harry said. 

“I know. It’s a lot.”

“No, no, not ‘wow’ in a bad way,” he smiled at Louis. “I love it.”

“It’s chaos. Like, all the time.”

“It’s awesome.”

They walked side-by-side out to Louis’ car and grabbed their bags from the trunk. Harry slung the leather strap over his shoulder as he turned to look at Louis, leaning down and pulling him into a kiss.

“So… we get to sleep together?” 

Harry wiggled his eyebrows.

“Yeah. We will have to be quiet, though. The girls are in the room next to us.”

“I can be quiet.”

“I have yet to see any evidence of that.”

They walked back into the house and headed straight up the creaky stairs. Harry examined the many pictures covering the walls; mostly photographs of the children throughout their school years, all the way from primary to graduation. There were a few pictures of an older couple that Harry recognized to be Louis’ grandparents and two pictures of the babies on Christmas morning last year, rolling around in wrapping paper and surrounded by toys. 

Christmas morning last year. Harry didn’t even know that Louis existed last Christmas. That felt like a lifetime ago, now.

They took a right when they reached the top of the landing and headed down a narrow hallway, passing one door with a large pink L and a large purple F painted right on the wood. Harry peeked inside to see pink and purple walls covered in pictures and posters and two small, white wooden beds draped in colorful quilts pushed against opposite walls.

“Lottie and Fizzy?” he asked.

“How’d you guess?” Louis came to a stop outside of the next door. “Here we are." 

Harry peered into the small room. It was very small. The bed, mostly, was very small. Small enough for one.

“It’s going to be kind of a tight squeeze." 

“Kind of,” Harry said happily. He walked in and sat his bag on the carpet at the end of the bed. “We don’t take up much space, though.”

“No, we don’t.”

He heard what sounded like glass breaking from somewhere downstairs, followed by shouting and the unmistakable sound of a child screaming.

“Welcome home,” Louis sighed.

Harry loved it.

 

******  
14.2

THE VISIT  
Friday, November 20, 2015

LOUIS  
******

“Harry, do you like pot roast? Here you go, love, have some—”

“Harry, what’s your favorite show? Do you watch The Walking Dead—“

“Your hair is so pretty! What product do you use—“

“Louis told us that you have a really cool sister, I can’t wait to meet her—“

"I just got Instagram! Will you follow me? Here, search for--"

“Do you want another beer? I’ll grab you one—“

“Harry, Harry, do you like shopping? We just got this awesome new store—“

Louis quietly watched the chaos before him as they all sat slammed together at the dinner table. Each of the girls was talking over one another vying for Harry’s attention and Harry, bless him, was trying to answer them all, while at the same time indulging Jay and taking helping after helping of roast.

“What’s the matter?” Louis frowned down at Doris as he bounced her on his knee. “You like potatoes, don’t you? Just one spoonful, come on, love.”

“She’s become quite the picky eater,” said Jay, shaking her head in frustration. “She likes a bit of mash, and some macaroni, and she likes ice cream. That's about it.”

“Have a bit of mash,” Louis pleaded. “Just one spoonful.”

“Can I try?” asked Harry.

Louis lifted Doris from where she sat perched on his lap and passed her off to his left. He watched as Harry bounced her on his own knee and made funny faces, blowing soft air onto her nose. Doris giggled and reached up to grab a fistful of Harry’s curls, pulling hard. 

“Ouch!” Harry said dramatically, pretending to be injured. 

Louis would never tire of watching him with kids.

“Aren’t you strong?” Harry cooed. “Such a big girl. Big girls need to eat, though. You want a bit of mash?”

He watched Doris nod and open her mouth wide as Harry took a scoop of mash onto his spoon and fed it to her. She chewed it and swallowed with no complaints.

Bastard.

“So, Harry,” Jay said over the chatter amongst the girls, “I feel like I know you already from how much Louis talks about you.”

“Mum,” Louis interrupted, “stop.”

“Is that right?” Harry said amusedly. “What all does he say?”

“Oh you know, it’s all just 'Harry this' and 'Harry that'—“

“Mum,” Louis repeated, “please—“

“Harry is so smart, Harry is so kind, Harry is such a good cook, Harry is good at footie—“

“You said I’m good at footie?” Harry turned to look at Louis. His face was delighted. “Tell me more about that.”

“You are good." 

“He’s always talking about how funny you are,” Jay smiled.

Oh, God. No.

“You think I’m funny!?” 

Harry was obviously ecstatic. Louis watched with a pained look on his face as Harry grinned at Doris and tickled her. 

“Do you know what that means, Doris? Your brother _does_ like my jokes! More jokes! More jokes!”

“No, no more jokes, please,” Louis begged. He looked over at Jay. “I’m going to kill you.”

“So, you are Liam’s brother?” Phoebe interrupted. “That's weird. We never knew about you.”

“I never knew about him.”

“He used to live down the street from here, you know,” Fizzy said. “He’s kind of hot, right?”

“I, uh, don’t think I can answer that…”

“He’s dating Harry’s best friend,” Louis glared at his sister. “Let it go, Fiz.”

“Louis told me that they’re very happy together,” Jay smiled. “I’m so glad for him. He’s such a good boy. Deserves everything good in this world.”

“Yeah, they are,” Harry fed Doris another spoonful of mash. “Happy, I mean. Zayn is a great guy, too.”

“What does he do?”

“Oh, uhh,” Harry winced as Doris grabbed another fistful of his hair and tugged violently. “He’s technically an artist, but he kind of just does whatever. His family has a lot of money—”

“Like, a _lot_ of money,” Louis repeated, adding an extra emphasis on the “a lot.”

“—and he’s got this great house that his grandmother left him when she passed that he kind of turned into his studio,” Harry continued, “so he just does random, freelance work. He’s done some murals for some businesses, done some sketches for some small publications. And he plays music.”

“That sounds like a life that I could live,” Jay laughed. 

“And he’s gorgeous,” Louis added. “Like, unfairly gorgeous.”

He rummaged around in his pocket for his phone and pulled up a picture from Zayn’s Facebook, passing it across the table to show Lottie and Fizzy.

“Damn,” Lottie smirked. “Well done, Liam.” 

“Yeah, Zayn’s got it pretty good,” Harry said. “I would hate him if he wasn’t such a good person. He’s impossible to hate.”

"I hated him at first," Louis admitted, pursing his lips guiltily.

"What?" Harry looked over at him, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "I never knew that."

"I thought you two were dating."

Harry cracked up.

"No, God no," he shook his head. "He's too high maintenance."

Louis smiled and leaned back into his seat as Harry and Jay launched into a conversation about Liam’s previous love interests, with Harry still bouncing a very happy Doris on his knee as she continued pulling at his hair. He looked across the table to see Lottie and Fizzy arguing over whether it was better to go somewhere tropical or snowy on a honeymoon. Apparently Liam and Zayn were getting married, as far as they were concerned. He looked to his right to where Phoebe and Daisy both had their noses glued to their phones. Ernie sat in his chair between the two teenagers making loud, happy noises with mash spread all over his face and hands. He would need a bath before bed.

Louis was home, and Harry was a part of it.

******

“Oh, God, it’s everywhere,” Louis gagged. “How does _this_ come out of _that_?”

He glanced back and forth between the soiled nappy in Harry’s hand and the small child lying on the changing table. Ernie smiled up at him without a care in the world. 

Louis had always hated nappy duty.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve changed a nappy,” Harry gagged, balling it up and chucking it into the bin. “I forgot what an absolute joy it is. Oh my God, it’s on my hand—“

“Get away from me,” Louis warned. “I’ve had one too many beers to be dealing with that right now.”

He watched as Harry reached down and grabbed three or four wipes from the small container on the table and cleaned himself off. Louis took a couple for himself and began to clean Ernie.

“When you’re done dealing with… that,” he frowned down to where Harry was scrubbing his palm vigorously with the wipe, “can you hand me a fresh one from the drawer?”

He scrunched his nose and tossed the used wipes into the bin as Harry reached down to retrieve a new nappy from inside the changing table. Ernie was babbling nonsense and giggling loudly in front of them as he watched the two men work.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” Louis asked, sliding the cloth up underneath his bum. “Why couldn’t you have done this _before_ we gave you a bath?”

He picked up the child and tucked him into his hip. Ernie reached out for Harry.

“Here,” he handed him off. “He’s obsessed with you.”

“I think it’s my hair.”

Ernie immediately grabbed two fistfuls of curls and pulled. Harry winced but didn’t protest.

“Alright then,” Louis said, tickling the child’s tummy playfully, “now that you’ve thoroughly traumatized Harry, it’s time to go night-night.”

He popped his head out into the hallway and called for Jay seeing as neither of the twins would go down without a fight unless she was the one doing it. He had tried and failed enough times to know better.

He turned to see Harry walking across the nursery toward the blue crib. He leaned forward and gently placed Ernie onto the soft padding, smiling softly as he stood back up and stared down at the little boy.

Louis' chest warmed at the sight. He was going to marry this man.

“Alright,” he heard Jay’s voice from the doorway, “I’ll take it from here. Thank you for cleaning him up for me.”

“Oh, it was no problem,” Harry lied. “Any time.”

Louis rolled his eyes.

Jay brushed by Louis with Doris propped on her hip, stopping briefly to let him kiss her goodnight. She passed Harry on her way to the pink crib and gave him a sweet smile as Doris reached out for him.

“No, no love,” Jay cooed. “You can play with Harry tomorrow. Time for bed.”

She went to place Doris into her crib where she promptly began screaming. Ernie chimed in immediately.

“I think that’s our cue to go,” Louis said happily, shutting the door behind them.

“They are so cute,” Harry followed Louis down the hallway toward the stairwell. “With all their little blonde hair. Were you blonde as a baby?”

“I think maybe a little bit, when I was really young. I’m sure there are some pictures around somewhere.”

He felt Harry take his hand and tug gently, stopping him in the middle of the corridor. The babies screamed from the opposite end of the hallway and the telly blasted from downstairs and he could hear Daisy yelling at Lottie about why she _needed_ driving lessons and it was loud, loud, loud everywhere.

“I love it here,” Harry said softly. 

He bent down and kissed Louis. 

“You’re going to be deaf by the time we leave tomorrow,” he laughed into Harry’s mouth. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

“Louis! Come here!” Phoebe's voice carried up the stairwell, breaking up their moment. “You’ve got to see this video! A cat is playing the piano oh my _God_ —”

He smiled and led Harry down the stairs, their fingers still intertwined as their hands swung between them. 

******

They spent the rest of the evening piled onto the old, worn sofas in the den. They watched two episodes of The Walking Dead and some movie about a haunted doll and far too many cat videos on YouTube to count. 

Louis had sat tucked into Harry’s side as they had chatted with his sisters and mum for the better part of four hours. It was nearly two in the morning by the time he and Harry said their goodnights and made the climb up the stairs to bed.

“There’s only one shower,” Louis warned him, “so if you want one in the morning, I’d suggest jumping in early.”

They stood side-by-side at the single sink and brushed their teeth. Harry spit his toothpaste all over Louis’ hand, cackling loudly before clapping one hand over his mouth.

“Whoops,” he whispered. “I forgot about the babies.”

Louis took his spitty toothpaste hand and smeared it across Harry’s face. 

“You two are gross.”

He turned to see Fizzy watching them from the doorway. Harry giggled in embarrassment and picked up a small washcloth by the sink, wiping the toothpaste from his cheek.

“Goodnight, Fiz,” Louis said, pecking her on the cheek as he walked out of the room.

“Goodnight, lovebirds,” she teased. "I better not hear any funny business through the wall tonight, either."

He led Harry into his small, childhood bedroom and closed the door behind them. The room was dark except for a blue lava lamp that sat plugged in on an overcrowded bookshelf in the corner. It probably hadn't been unplugged since 1998. 

Quiet at last.

He pulled his shirt up and over his head as he watched Harry drop his joggers to the floor. They normally slept naked, but he figured that maybe they should make an exception with his sisters in the adjoining room and his mother across the hall. Pity. 

They both stripped to just their pants and stared down at the single bed.

“Did your mum make this quilt?”

Harry reached down and lifted a corner, running his fingers along the worn fabric. 

“Yep. She took a bunch of my old t-shirts from footie tournaments over the years and quilted them together when they got too small for me to wear.”

“I love it. It’s so soft.”

“I love it too," Louis smiled. "I wish she’d let me take it home with me, but I slept under this until I moved out. Says that my room wouldn’t be my room without it.”

They stood in silence for a moment, just looking down at the old quilt and enjoying the peace.

“I’ll sleep against the wall,” Harry offered.

“No way,” Louis shook his head. “You have to piss, like, five times a night. I’m not going to have you bulldozing over me every time you need to get out of bed.”

“I drink a lot of water,” Harry argued, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine, you can sleep against the wall.”

Louis climbed into the small, creaky bed and scooted all the way to the back edge, leaving just enough room for Harry to slip in after him. He recognized the scent of his mum's detergent on the bedsheets.

Harry tucked his bum into Louis’ crotch and reached back for his arm, pulling it over and across his waist. Louis nuzzled his nose into Harry’s curls as he felt him place a sweet, chaste kiss to the back of his hand.

“I love you,” Harry murmured into the darkness.

“I love you, too. More than you know.”

They were both asleep almost immediately.

******  
14.3

THE VISIT  
Saturday, November 21, 2015

HARRY  
******

It was warm. Too warm. 

Harry blinked his eyes open and struggled to identify his surroundings. 

Blue walls. A small, wooden desk in the corner with a lamp shaped like a football perched on top. Posters of Keepmoat and Old Trafford and a beach and the Red Hot Chilipeppers covered the walls. A bookshelf packed with trophies and comic books and papers and a blue lava lamp sat tucked snugly in the corner beside a tall, wooden dresser. 

Harry didn’t even realize that they still made lava lamps. 

He felt Louis where he lay plastered against his back, his sleepy snores hot against the nape of Harry’s neck. He pushed the quilt off of himself and slid out of bed, doing his best not to disturb Louis. 

The bed creaked loudly. Louis stirred.

“What?” he asked groggily through closed eyes, smacking his lips adorably. “Wherrerr you going?”

“To pee,” Harry said quietly. “And shower.”

He leaned down and kissed Louis’ warm forehead before he rolled over and resumed snoring. He could sleep through a fucking freight train.

Harry grabbed one of the fluffy towels that Jay had left folded on the corner of the desk and slipped into the small bathroom separating Louis’ bedroom from the nursery. The opposite door was open and he could see that the twins were not in their cribs. 

He looked down at the small clock that sat on the countertop beside the sink. 9:03 am. They were definitely awake by now.

He shut the door and turned the water on, taking a piss as he waited for it to heat up. The shower was full of bottles and tubes and canisters and acne scrub and everything was colorful and with swirly writing on the label. He had to remind himself that three young women shared this shower. He couldn’t imagine what it had looked like when Lottie was still living here.

He uncapped the top of a bottle that claimed it was ‘Great with Curly Hair!’ and squirted some into his palm. He massaged his scalp as the water beat down onto his back and washed the thin sheen of sweat that had accumulated during the night off and down the drain. 

He felt refreshed by the time he stepped out a few minutes later and dried off quickly, wrapping the towel high around his waist and rummaging in his toiletry bag for his toothbrush. He brushed his teeth quickly and slipped back into their bedroom without waking Louis. 

He looked down at him where he lay curled up and snoring underneath his tattered quilt. His hair was a mess and his face was flushed and swollen from a night spent pressed against Harry’s back.

He was beautiful.

Harry dug out a fresh pair of jeans and pulled his old Rolling Stones tee over his head, attempting to smooth the wrinkled fabric. He ran his fingers through his wet hair and tried to untangle his mess of curls where they hung past his shoulders, but whatever curly-haired shampoo he had used was not cooperating. He decided to just tie it up in a bun instead.

He crept into the hallway and shut the door behind him as silently as possible, making his way down the corridor toward the stairwell. He smelled bacon. 

Harry turned the corner at the bottom of the steps to see Jay standing at the stove, working on what looked like a full English for all of them. There was an enormous bowl of eggs and a large plate covered in sausage sitting on the counter beside her. The oven light was on and Harry could see a tray of scones warming inside. 

He watched as Jay flipped the bacon with a fork, unable to hear Harry enter over the sound of the grease popping and the telly from the den. He assumed that the twins were watching cartoons.

“Can I help?” 

Jay turned to look over her shoulder and smiled warmly.

“Harry! Good morning,” she said happily. “I’m just finishing up here, actually. You just sit down and make yourself at home.”

He took a seat at the breakfast table and watched her work. It was a lot to feed seven people and two toddlers, but she seemed to have it under control. He was impressed.

“Did you sleep alright?” she asked. “I know that bed is small.”

“Slept great. I love that quilt you made Lou.”

“Took me damn near a year, didn’t it?” she said, shaking her head. “One of those projects you kick yourself for starting, but it was worth it.”

He sat in silence as she lifted each piece of bacon onto a raised grate to drain the grease, watching as she reached up into a cupboard for two plates and piled them high with food.

“Tea or coffee?” she asked.

“Tea, please. With milk and sugar.”

“That’s how I take mine,” she smiled. “Louis never has liked more than a spot of milk in his. Dunno how he does it. Too strong for me.”

“I tell him that all the time.”

Jay brought the plates to the table and sat one in front of Harry. She walked back over to the stove to retrieve the kettle and poured them each a cup of tea before settling into the chair across from him.

“Cheers,” he smiled, raising his cup.

“Cheers.”

They sipped their tea and tucked into their food as the twins babbled and laughed from the den.

“They seem to be entertaining themselves,” he mused.

“Oh, yes, that will last another five minutes and then Doris will throw a block at Ernie’s face and they will both be screaming.”

He watched as Jay scooped up a forkful of eggs and dumped them on top of her slice of bacon, eating both in one bite.

“Louis does the same thing,” Harry said fondly. "Uses his bacon to eat his eggs."

“He learned it from me. It’s like a little mini fry-up sandwich.”

They spent the next few moments in comfortable silence as Harry finished off his breakfast and tea. It was really, really good. He thought back to the first morning that Louis had slept over and Harry had cooked him a quick fry-up before his footie game. He had sat happily at Harry's old, worn table wearing Harry's old, worn KISS shirt and had told Harry that his fry-up was better than his mum’s.

Harry smiled to himself.

“You really love him, don’t you?” 

“Hmm?” he asked, his face full of eggs. 

“My son. You really love him. I can tell.”

Harry swallowed, feeling his face burning under Jay’s stare. He didn’t know what to say.

“It’s alright,” she said warmly. “You don’t have to say anything. He told me that you can be a bit shy. I’m just happy.” She sat her teacup down on the table. "I know that he seems tough, but he's really not, you know. He just puts on a show. He's a sensitive boy. Sensitive _man_ , I guess. He'll always be a boy to me."

Harry swirled the last sip of tea around in his cup before lifting his eyes to meet her gaze.

"I've never seen him in love before," she said quietly. "Take care of him, please."

Harry nodded and smiled. That was one promise he could make.

“I will.”

******  
14.4

THE VISIT  
Saturday, November 21, 2015

LOUIS  
*******

 

Louis stood by the doorway with his head tipped back against the wall. He knew that he shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but he didn’t care. 

“Take care of him, please,” he heard his mum say.

“I will."

His heart was beating quickly in his chest as he listened. _As if_ Louis needed to be taken care of. He was perfectly capable of caring for himself, thanks.

Except that he _wanted_ Harry to do it. He wanted to take care of Harry, too.

He pushed himself off of the wall and rounded the corner into the kitchen.

“Good morning!” he chirped happily. “Knew I smelled a fry-up.”

He leaned down and kissed the top of Harry’s damp hair where it was pulled back off of his neck in a messy bun. Louis loved when he put his hair up.

“How did you sleep?” Jay asked as he fixed himself a plate.

“Like a rock,” Harry answered for him. “Was snoring so loud that I thought surely he’d wake the girls."

“I do not snore.”

“It sounds like he’s sawing logs when he sleeps. Right in my ear.”

Louis turned to pour himself a cup of tea before setting his plate down at the table beside Harry.

“So,” he said, ignoring Harry completely, “what were you two chatting about?”

“Oh, nothing,” Jay said nonchalantly. “Harry was just telling me about… playing guitar.”

“Oh, uhhh, yeah,” Harry lied. “Guitar. I play it.”

Jesus, Harry was a horrible liar.

“Wow. Sounds like a riveting conversation.”

He scarfed down his breakfast while listening to Harry and his mum talk about everything from Harry’s job hunt to playing music to the unseasonably early snowfall that was predicted for that evening.

“You’ll want to leave here earlier than five o'clock or so,” she said sadly. “I was hoping that you could stay and eat but I don’t want you on the roads when it starts. I can't believe we're getting snow in November."

“It’s not like I’ve never driven in snow, mum."

“Doesn’t mean that I’m going to encourage it.”

“I’m with her,” Harry nodded toward Jay. “I don’t like driving in bad weather.”

“You’re not even driving! I am!”

“That only strengthens my argument."

“I can’t believe that you spent three hours in Louis’ car,” Jay said to Harry, shaking her head in disbelief. “It smells like an old footie cleat. And an ashtray.”

“Oh, have you not told her?” Harry turned and asked Louis.

“Told me what?”

“I quit smoking,” Louis said proudly. “Well, I’m trying to quit, at least.”

“Boo bear! That’s wonderful!” 

Jay clapped her hands together and stood from her seat, walking around the table to place a kiss to his forehead. 

“I’ve been telling him to quit for ages. Haven’t I been telling you for ages? I have. It’s about time that you listened to your mum about something.”

Louis didn’t have the heart to tell her that it had been Harry who’d finally convinced him to quit. One particularly violent coughing attack during a mid-afternoon rimjob had really put things into perspective.

“I’m only a week in, but so far, so good,” he told her. “Well, I did have a smoke on Wednesday. Just one! But I am going to blame it on Ben.”

“How does that prick still have a job?” Jay muttered as she stood and began collecting their plates. “I think you should file a harassment complaint against him.”

“I’m not filing anything,” Louis crossed his arms defiantly. “He’s just some arsehole with a sad life who takes it out on everyone around him. Doesn’t bother me.”

“It clearly does if it made you smoke,” Harry pointed out. 

Louis decided to ignore that.

He stood from the table and walked into the den, feeling Harry’s hand land on the small of his back when he stopped at the playpen in the middle of the floor. The twins were rolling around on the carpet watching some very loud, very bright cartoon on the telly. Doris had managed to pull her nappy off.

“Boobear?” Harry whispered into his ear.

“Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.” 

He reached down and picked Doris up as Harry retrieved the discarded nappy. They struggled together to get it back on as she screamed and kicked and pulled at Harry’s hair. 

Well, if the girls weren’t up already, they were now.

“So what’s the plan for today?” Harry asked as Louis sat a very snotty, very angry Doris back inside the playpen. “Do I get to see the sights and sounds of Doncaster?”

“I’m afraid you’d be fairly let down if I took you on a grand tour,” Louis slipped his hands inside of Harry’s and kissed the tip of his nose. “We are going to lunch with Stan. He wants to meet you, and I haven’t seen him since… the week before we met, maybe? Shit.”

Guilt lapped at the edges of Louis’ brain like waves on a shoreline. Seven months since he’d seen Stan. Seven.

He was a shitty friend.

“You are not a shitty friend,” Harry said, reading his mind. “You know that this is a normal part of getting older, right? Especially when you and your friends don’t live in the same city. It doesn't mean that you’re a shitty friend.”

“We used to see each other almost every day,” he mumbled guiltily. “Then I moved, and he didn’t, and now it’s been seven months. I barely even text him.”

“Well. does he text you?”

“Not really,” Louis pursed his lips.

“If it really bothers you that much, you should make a point to prioritize it,” Harry said. “But I don’t think you should feel like it’s all your fault.”

Louis sighed and leaned into Harry’s chest, nuzzling his nose into the side of his neck. They stood there in silence listening to Doris struggling to pull her nappy off again. 

He tipped his chin up and kissed the underside of Harry’s jaw.

“Isn’t this how I left you two last night?” he heard Fizzy’s voice from the stairwell. “You are seriously gross.”

Louis giggled against Harry’s skin and pulled back.

She wasn’t wrong. 

They were gross. 

******  
14.5

THE VISIT  
Saturday, November 21, 2015

HARRY  
******

“So Louis tells me you’re studying history,” Harry said to Lottie. “That sounds interesting.”

“It’s actually terrible. _So_ boring.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. 

“So then why are you doing it?”

“I was seventeen and stupid when I picked it,” she shrugged. “And now I’ve only got one year left. Too late to change.”

Harry frowned and picked at a spot on the couch cushion. The ceiling creaked above him from where Louis was rummaging around in his room, attempting to collect his belongings so that they could leave. Harry didn’t understand how he’d been able to make such a mess. They had only been there for eighteen hours.

“It’s never too late,” he said thoughtfully. “I thought the same thing, but it’s not.”

Lottie glanced sideways at him and smiled.

“I like doing hair,” she said. “And makeup. But that’s not really a ‘proper’ career, whatever that is.”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s not a proper career’? People need their hair and makeup done, don’t they?”

Lottie sighed and turned back toward the television. A loud crash from upstairs. Louis was like a bull in a china shop.

“I suppose so,” she mused. “But if I quit now, I will have wasted the last three years.”

“Better than wasting the rest of your life,” Harry said dryly. “Imagine waking up every day to go to a job you despise. It sucks.”

She hummed thoughtfully as they fell into a comfortable silence. Harry hoped that he hadn’t overstepped, but Lottie was smart. Funny. Energetic. She deserved to do something that she was passionate about instead of wasting away doing something she hated. Everyone deserved that.

Of course, he _was_ currently unemployed and running out of savings, so maybe he shouldn’t be handing out advice.

“Ready!” Louis called out happily from the stairwell. 

“What were you doing up there?” Lottie asked.

“Had a bit of an issue squeezing everything back into my bag, but I got it sorted.”

Harry looked down to see the canvas bursting at the seams where it hung beside Louis’ knee.

“But that’s the only outfit you’ve worn since you got here,” Lottie said, plainly confused. “You haven’t even changed.”

“It’s better to look ahead and prepare, than to look back and regret,” Louis said wistfully.

Idiot. 

Jay appeared from the kitchen holding Ernie in one arm and a small, brown bag in the other.

“I packed you both a bit of food for the drive,” she said as she handed Louis the bag. “Doris is asleep but I’ll tell her that you say goodbye.”

Harry stood from the couch and pulled Lottie into a hug. He really wished that they could have stayed longer to give him more time to get to know all the girls, but they needed to get back before the snow started. Louis was a liability on wheels in the best conditions.

“It was really nice to meet you,” he told Lottie, squeezing her around the shoulders. “Come visit us in London sometime.”

“I will, I promise.”

He walked over to where Louis stood at the bottom of the stairwell. Jay called up to the second floor, letting Fizzy and the twins know that they were leaving. Daisy and Phoebe came bouncing down the steps and pulled Louis into a hug.

“Miss you already,” he said, kissing both of them on their foreheads. “Stay out of trouble. Get good grades. Boys are evil. See you for Christmas next month.”

Harry watched as Fizzy appeared at the top of the stairs, her hair wild and still wearing her pyjamas. It was after four o’clock.

“Fiz! Have you been sleeping all day?” Jay scolded. 

She yawned and made her way slowly down the steps toward Louis as Harry hugged Phoebe and Daisy goodbye. 

“Fizzy sleeps late on the weekends,” Phoebe told Harry.

“Fizzy sleeps late every day,” Daisy chimed in, rolling her eyes.

“Thanks for watching the Walking Dead with me,” he said to both of them. “Your brother never shuts up about it. At least now I know the characters.”

“They all die,” Phoebe smiled. 

“Ah, well, spoiler alert.” 

He walked over to Fizzy and hugged her goodbye before bending down to pick his bag up by the door. He turned to see Jay squeezing Louis tight as Ernie tried to squirm out of her grip.

“Goodbye, Ernie,” Harry said. 

Ernie reached over to grab a fistful of hair and pulled hard. Harry winced. They were adorable and Harry would miss the babies, but his scalp really needed a break.

“Goodbye, love,” Jay said as she turned to Harry and gave him a warm hug. “Please come back soon. You are welcome here any time.”

“Thanks for everything,” he smiled, her hair tickling his nose. "See you soon, I hope." 

He pulled back and turned to see Louis already tugging the front door open. He fell into step behind him on the way out to the car as Jay shouted at them about driving safely and not speeding. She had clearly ridden with Louis more than once in her day.

They tossed their bags into the trunk and waved goodbye one last time before climbing into the car. It was freezing and the sky was gray, threatening snow at any moment.

“Brrr,” Harry rubbed his hands together and cranked up the heat. “It’s fucking freezing.”

He looked over to see Louis wiping at his eye as he pulled the car away from the curb.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine,” Louis smiled sadly. “Just hate leaving them, is all. Never gets easier.”

Harry reached across the console and took his hand. His sensitive little hardass.

“They loved you,” Louis grinned over at him. “You fucking killed it.”

“Really?”

“Mum asked me when the wedding is.”

Harry laughed and rolled his eyes. He wondered that, too.

“Well, I loved them,” he said happily. “I’m glad they liked me.”

“ _Loved_ you,” Louis corrected. “So did Stan. He texted me after lunch.”

Harry had liked Stan alright. He had seemed nice. They hadn’t had very much in common, though. To be honest, Stan and Louis didn’t seem to have very much in common, either. He wanted to tell Louis that perhaps the reason that he felt like they were growing apart was because they were growing into different people, and not because he’d been a shitty friend for the past year. People change. 

He decided not to bring it up.

“I liked him, too,” Harry said. “Seemed nice. And that restaurant was amazing.”

“I used to go there all the time. They have the best burgers I’ve ever eaten.”

“You’ve clearly never tried one of my burgers.”

“You’ve never cooked me one!” Louis argued. “You’re always making me, like, boiled brussels sprouts with fish and leaves.”

“Those leaves are called lettuce,” Harry said dryly, “and I have never boiled a brussels sprout. It ruins the taste.”

Louis shook his head.

“Saying that it ruins the taste implies that there is a good taste to be ruined.”

“Brussels sprouts do taste good,” Harry implored. This was not their first argument over this particular vegetable. “You just need to give them a chance.”

He watched as Louis sighed and squeezed his hand where it lay gently against his thigh. Harry smiled and leaned his head back against the headrest as small snowflakes began to fall and melt on the windshield. They pulled onto the highway and headed south toward London.

“Let’s go home.”

******  
Sunday, November 22, 2015  
******

“Hey, slow down."

Harry pressed his face against the glass and squinted at the NOW HIRING sign hanging in the window of his favorite record store, Vinyl Pimp. 

“Pull over.”

“Haz, we’re already going to be late,” Louis complained. “We told Liam and Zayn that we’d be there at seven. We can shop tomorrow.”

“It’s not to shop, Lou,” he said quickly. “Look. They’re hiring.”

His seatbelt slammed into his chest as Louis hit the brakes and pulled wildly into a vacant parking space.

The two men climbed out and approached the cluttered storefront. There were posters and album covers and signs for local bands plastered to the dirty window. 

“Now Hiring,” Louis read. “Management and sales positions. Inquire inside.”

“Management,” Harry said thoughtfully. “I wonder if they’d hire me?”

“Have you ever managed anyone before?”

“No.”

“Have you ever worked in a record store before?”

“No,” Harry said dejectedly. “This is dumb. They’re not going to hire me." 

“I wasn’t asking to discourage you,” Louis said, his voice kind. “But those are the questions that they’re going to ask. Sure, you don’t exactly have a shining resume, but you worked in a law office. Didn’t you learn to, like, lie? Can’t you figure out a way to spin it?”

He had a point. If there was one thing that Harry had learned while working for Simon it was how to take a bad situation and contort it until it sounded like the best thing you’d ever heard.

“Put lipstick on a pig,” Harry mused.

“What?”

“I saw it in a movie once,” he explained. “Fancy up your shit, make it seem better than it is. Put lipstick on a pig. Although that’s kind of rude to pigs, now that I think about it."

“Just go inside and ask about the job, will you?”

Harry pushed the front door open and heard the bell tinkle overhead. No one was in the store, and no one was behind the counter.

“Wow,” Louis muttered. “They really do need help.”

The two men meandered through the aisles and shelves, fingering through the old, vinyl records and looking through the discount CD bin. Harry had been in here many times. He loved the way it smelled. Kind of like a bookstore, but dirtier.

“Can I help you?”

Harry turned to see an older man around sixty-five standing happily behind the counter at the register. He recognized him from his past visits.

“Hi, yes,” Harry said as he walked toward the man with his arm outstretched for a handshake, “my name is Harry Styles. I was hoping to talk with you about the job opening.” 

“Harry! Nice to meet you. I’m Nicholas.”

“Nice to meet you, as well. I love this store.”

“Thank you very much!” Nicholas said happily. “As it so happens, so do I. Which position are you interested in?”

“Well, I saw that you have two. Can you tell me about them?”

“Sure,” he said, smiling warmly at Harry. He reminded him of Santa Claus. “The 'Sales' position is just a fancy way of saying salesperson, really. Working the register, helping the customers find what they’re looking for, organizing the shelves. Tidying up. Not very exciting work, but necessary, nonetheless. But I’m also looking for a store manager. Need to cut back on my time here. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“What all is the manager responsible for?”

Harry didn’t know shit about managing a record store.

“Well, you would oversee the salespeople, obviously,” Nicholas explained. “Handle scheduling and all of your basic employee-relations duties. You would also be responsible for managing the inventory, and if there is a customer that needs assistance past what your employees could handle, they would escalate them to you.”

“That sounds interesting.” 

He ran his fingers over a stack of vintage albums piled high on the counter by the register. He spotted Fleetwood Mac. He forced himself to tear his eyes away.

“What store are you coming from?” Nicholas asked.

“Oh, umm,” Harry looked up and met his gaze. “I’m actually not. I’m coming from a law firm.”

“Oh," Nicholas frowned. "Have you ever worked retail?”

“I used to be a baker. Like, in a bakery. But, honestly, that was a long time ago.”

“Hmm,” Nicholas pursed his lips and sighed. “Well, I have to tell you, I’ve never hired someone as a Manager with no experience in, well, management.”

“I understand,” Harry nodded. He reached out to shake hands again. “Thank you, anyway. I really do love your store. It’s a great little place.”

He smiled and hoped that his disappointment wasn’t overly obvious as he turned to go retrieve Louis. He scanned the aisles but didn't see him anywhere.

“Why would someone want to leave a law firm to manage an old music store, anyway?” Nicholas asked.

Harry turned to see the old man standing with his arms crossed over his chest. He cleared his throat.

“I love music,” he said simply. “Always have. I love everything about it. Playing it, writing it, sharing it. And I love helping people. And music helps people.”

“Mmm,” Nicholas nodded in agreement.

Harry gave him a small smile before heading back toward the door.

“Come back tomorrow for an interview,” he heard Nicholas say from behind him. “Two o’clock sharp. I’d tell you to bring a resume, but it doesn’t sound like it would be all that helpful.”

Holy shit.

“Thank you so much,” Harry spun on his heel and walked back toward the counter to shake his hand aggressively. Too aggressively, probably. “Seriously, thank you. You won’t regret it. I’ll be here at two o’clock sharp. Thanks.”

He turned and walked hastily toward the exit, spotting Louis pretending to browse at the end of the last aisle.

“Let’s go,” Harry hissed, grabbing him by the back pocket and dragging him out of the store. “Before he changes his mind.”

“What did he say?” 

He took Louis by the hand and pulled him out onto the sidewalk past the front windows. They fell into step beside each other on the way to the car. 

“He’s giving me an interview for the management position,” Harry grinned. “Tomorrow.”

“Hazza!” 

Louis punched him squarely in the arm in his go-to display of affection when he got overexcited. Harry was endeared by it, but lowkey wished that he would find something that left less bruising.

“That’s so sick! You’re going to kill it.”

“He seemed pretty hesitant, though,” Harry frowned. “He said he’s never hired anyone that doesn’t have any experience.”

“You just need to sell it the right way, you know? Wow him with your vast knowledge of music. You know more obscure artists than anyone I’ve ever met, and that’s saying something seeing as I work in the industry. Plus, you're sexy.”

Harry climbed into the passenger seat and sighed. The initial excitement was wearing off and was slowly being replaced by nerves. 

It had been a long time since he’d had an interview. Years, actually.

“What if I don’t get it?”

“This is the first place you’ve even applied,” Louis pointed out. “And if you don’t get it… well, onto the next one. You’re no worse off than you are right now.”

“I suppose you’re right. Things can’t get much worse. Nowhere to go but up from here.”

“That’s the spirit,” he chirped happily as he pulled the car onto the main road. “Now let’s go eat. Apparently Liam and Zayn already ordered for us.”

“Where are we going?”

“That little Italian place near that coffee house we met at last week," Louis said.

"Oh yeah! The one next to that spa that waxed your arse."

“That happened _one time_ ,” Louis glared at Harry from across the car. “I never should have even told you about it.”

“Why?” Harry asked. “I want to experience it for myself. Not the waxing. The you being waxed, I mean.”

“It was traumatic. She said she was going to ‘get all my little tailfeathers.’ I didn’t even know I _had_ tailfeathers.”

Harry cracked up as he imagined Louis spread eagle on the waxing table, blushing bright red as a stranger casually discussed the hair on his arsehole.

“Maybe we can swing by after dinner,” he suggested.

“Not a chance. Absolutely not."

“But what if I’m hungry for dessert?” Harry pouted.

******

Louis got his arsehole waxed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice.


	15. The Cottage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets big news. Louis gets big news, too.
> 
> They both decide to take a trip.

******  
15.1

THE COTTAGE  
Wednesday, December 3, 2015

 

HARRY  
******

“I have news,” Harry blurted out the moment Louis entered the flat. 

He extended the bottle of wine that he was hiding behind his back outward toward where Louis stood frozen and confused in the doorway. He looked from the bottle to Harry and back to the bottle again before dropping his keys on the table and shutting the door behind him. 

“Wow,” Louis read the label and raised his eyebrows in surprise, “must be big news, you went all out. How much did this cost you? Must have been at least… ten pounds?”

“I hate you,” Harry tried to stifle his smile. “It’s a red blend.”

“I see that.” 

Louis reached out and took the bottle from Harry. 

“Ménage a Trois,” he read aloud. “You trying to tell me something, Styles?”

“I think it’s a blend between three reds,” Harry smirked, taking the bottle back from Louis. “Gemma went to America a few years ago and thought the name was funny. I don’t think it was a particularly _expensive_ wine, but it’s been sitting on the shelf since she gave it to me.”

Harry watched as Louis’ eyes flicked up to meet his gaze. He smiled and rocked forward on his toes for a kiss, smashing his nose against Harry’s cheek in the process. 

“Well, it just so happens that I have some news, too,” he grinned against Harry’s lips. “But I want you to go first.”

“I got the job,” Harry exploded, unable to contain his excitement for another moment. “Nicholas called me this afternoon and told me. I start on Monday.”

“Hazza! That is amazing!” 

Louis clapped his hands together and threw his arms around Harry’s neck, squeezing him much tighter than was comfortable. Harry didn’t mind.

“I knew that you would get it. Didn’t I say that you would get it? When will you learn to listen to me? I am so proud of you, I love you.”

Harry half laughed, half coughed as Louis strangled him and kissed all over his face. He wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist and dropped his nose into the crook of his neck. He smelled like cologne and a little bit like cigarette smoke.

“You’ve been smoking,” Harry frowned. “What happened?” 

Louis chuckled into Harry’s hair and released the stranglehold on his neck. 

“You and that nose. Fucking pain in my ass.” 

He stepped back away from Harry and dropped his eyes to the floor. Harry could see a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“I did smoke,” he said. “One. But it was a celebratory smoke. A happy smoke.” 

Harry pursed his lips skeptically as he peered down at Louis. 

“I got promoted,” Louis said softly. His eyes brightened as a huge smile broke across his face. “Effective at the start of the year. You’re looking at our newest A&R Assistant Manager.”

“Oh my God, Louis,” Harry leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Louis’ shoulders, pulling him into a hug. He buried his face into Louis’ messy hair and chaotically planted kisses all over the top of his head. “Oh my God! I am so proud of you. I knew it would happen eventually. Oh my God. We have to celebrate!”

“Calm down Curly,” Louis grinned into Harry’s shoulder. “I’m just an _assistant_ manager. I won’t get to, like, actually sign talent yet or anything. But I will get to scout it and take it to my boss. Officially, instead of just pathetically. At least I’m finally in the department, you know? And I got a raise. It’s not that big, but its okay. And I’m above Ben, so, fuck him.”

Harry released his hold on Louis and took one of his shoulders in each hand. He stepped back and held him at arm’s length, watching as his cheeks flushed red. Harry could tell that he knew what was coming as he dropped his gaze to the floor. 

He didn’t care. He was determined to help Louis break this habit.

“Stop downplaying your accomplishments,” Harry said, keeping his tone soft but his words firm. “You have worked hard for this. It would have been easy to give up and stop trying, but you didn’t. Remember how many times Magee rejected you?”

“You mean all of the times that he slowly and methodically crushed my soul by attempting to systematically dismantle my dreams over the course of three years?” Louis grumbled. “How could I forget?”

“Exactly,” Harry said, trying to hide his smile. Eight months with Louis and he was still endeared by his quick wit. “A lesser person might have given up. Probably would have given up. But you kept going, and look what happened. It paid off.” 

Louis lifted his gaze to meet Harry’s eyes. Harry leaned forward and rested his forehead against Louis’, rubbing their noses together affectionately.

“ _Stop. Downplaying. Your. Accomplishments._ ”

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Louis brought both hands up to Harry’s wrists and wrapped his fingers around them. 

“Let’s drink that wine. I want to hear all about your new job.”

“Well, like I said, I start Monday,” Harry said happily.

He kissed Louis’ nose before pulling away and leading them both into the kitchen. He reached into the drawer beside the sink and rummaged around for the wine opener. 

“I think I have two employees? Or three, I’m not sure,” Harry said. “Definitely two, though. I’ll be making less than I was working at the firm, obviously, but it should be enough to pay my rent until my lease is up and I can find something cheaper. Can you grab the plates?”

He watched as Louis reached up into the cabinet, causing his pants to stretch tight across his arse. Harry wished that he was close enough to smack it.

Louis pulled down two plates and sat them loudly on the counter beside the stove. 

“How much will you be working?”

“Full time, forty hours a week,” Harry said. “I even have an office. Well, technically it used to be a cupboard for cleaning supplies, but they repurposed it. It’s very Harry Potter.”

“Does it smell like cleaning supplies?”

“More like an old, damp mop that hasn’t been wrung out in five years,” Harry said. “I think some mop water might have seeped into the carpet. Very luxurious. Nothing that a nice, scented candle can’t fix, though.” 

“I’ll help you decorate,” Louis offered as he rummaged through the silverware drawer. “We can hang up some posters or something.” 

Harry popped the cork out of the wine bottle and poured two large glasses. He held one out toward Louis who accepted with a smile. 

“To new beginnings,” Harry said as he raised his glass for a toast. “To new beginnings together.”

“Sap.”

Harry watched Louis sip his wine and scoop an enormous helping of spaghetti onto his plate one-handedly. A meatball escaped the serving spoon and fell to the floor, landing with a splat on the hardwood and flinging sauce against the bottom of Louis’ shoe. As usual, he was a mess. 

“Let’s take a vacation,” Harry said. “To celebrate. My new job, your promotion. A romantic getaway. We’ve never taken a vacation.” 

“Sure we have.” 

Harry watched as Louis tore off a piece of garlic bread and stuffed it into his mouth. He ripped off a second piece and dropped it onto his already overflowing plate before bending down and wiping up the mess on the floor. 

“We went camping.”

“That was romantic,” Harry smiled as he thought back to Louis’ makeshift camping trip in the living room of his flat. That was at the top of Harry’s list of all-time favorite nights. “But I was thinking something a bit more… official.”

“Alright then,” Louis said. He sat down at the kitchen table and tucked into his food. “What were you thinking?”

“What about the mountains?” Harry suggested. He’d had this idea bouncing around in his head for a while. “Somewhere snowy where we can just lay around in thick socks and wool jumpers by a fireplace.”

“Can we fuck on a bearskin rug?” 

“You know how I feel about the fur trade,” Harry said somberly. He spun the long pasta on his fork, preparing to take a bite. “We can fuck everywhere else, though.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Harry stood from his seat and went to grab his laptop from the coffee table. He sat the computer down next to his plate and pulled up Google, too excited about their trip to wait until after dinner to browse for locations.

“Oooh, Lou, this one is nice,” Harry said as he scrolled the page. “One bedroom cottage in the Lake District, mountain views from every room, a fireplace! We could be there in four hours.”

Louis scooted his chair around the table with his wine glass still in hand and scrolled through the photo gallery.

“It looks really nice,” he agreed, raising his eyebrows when he saw the nightly rate. “Four hours is a lot of hours, though. Kind of pricey, too.”

“I’ve got plenty of music to keep us entertained and don’t worry about the price. This is my treat.”

“Your treat?” Louis cracked up. “Your treat my arse. You’ve been unemployed for the better part of two months. That’s very kind, but I will pay my share.”

“Fine,” Harry grumbled. 

He was looking forward to having a steady source of income again if for no other reason than to be able to spend money on Louis without him protesting. It had been ages since he’d let Harry pay for anything, and Harry had noticed how many ‘I’ve got it’ and ‘don’t worry about it’ comments Louis had been making recently. 

He loved Louis for it, but hated that he felt like he needed to do it.

“When should we go?” Louis asked. “There is no availability this weekend and then it’s Christmas—“ 

“And your birthday,” Harry reminded gently.

“—yes, and my birthday,” Louis grumbled. “Next weekend? Before the holidays?”

“The cottage is open. Works for me.”

Harry typed a quick email to the contact at the bottom of the website requesting that they book the cottage for the following Friday through Sunday. 

“Romantic weekend in the mountains, check,” Harry said, closing his laptop. “I hope there’s a little snow.”

 

******  
Friday, December 12, 2015  
******

 

“Jesus fuck, this is a lot of snow,” Louis mused. 

Harry looked over to where he sat bundled in the passenger seat with his face pressed flushed to the glass like it had been for the past two hours. It had started flurrying right as they passed through Lancaster, with the world turning to white around them as they traveled further and further north toward the Lake District. 

What was meant to be a four-hour drive had quickly turned into a six-hour commute. Harry’s old car wasn’t really cut out for these conditions.

“It’s beautiful, though,” Harry said as he slowly made the turn onto the single lane road that led to their cottage. “Peaceful. Serene.”

“Mmm,” Louis hummed in agreement. “I’m going to pee in it.”

“Same.”

Harry slowed the car as the road began to climb, twisting and turning up the mountain toward the small house. Louis reached out to rest his palm on Harry’s thigh and rubbed small circles with his thumb. Harry wanted to reach down and hold it, but felt better with both hands on the wheel. 

He squinted into the snow as the driveway appeared up ahead.

“There.” 

Relief washed over Harry as he saw the cottage come into view, tucked into a grove of snow-covered trees on the side of the road. 

“Thank God,” Louis sighed. “Not that I don’t love spending six hours in the car with you, ‘cause I do,” he playfully squeezed Harry’s thigh before removing his hand to tug his beanie down further over his ears, “but I was a little bit worried that we weren’t going to make it.”

“You and I both,” Harry muttered under his breath.

He pulled the car off onto the side of the road, taking extra care to put the parking brake on before cutting off the engine. His car was old and beat up enough as it was without Harry accidentally sending it sliding backward down a mountain.

“Ready?” he smiled over at Louis.

“Ready.”

Harry tugged his own beanie on over his mess of curls before opening the door and stepping out. Snow crunched beneath his boots as he walked toward the trunk to retrieve their bags, shivering slightly as the wind whipped around him. 

He popped the trunk and leaned inside, grabbing his leather satchel with one hand and Louis’ old, canvas Adidas bag with the other.

“Haz!” he heard Louis’ voice from somewhere in front of the car. “Look! I drew your dick.”

Harry slammed the trunk shut and walked carefully over toward where Louis stood beside the narrow walkway that led to the front door. He looked down to see a large, slightly curved, yellow penis outlined in the snow. 

“It’s crooked,” Harry pointed out.

“It’s got character.” 

Louis smiled up at him as he tucked himself back into his joggers. Snowflakes landed on his lashes and melted as he blinked, creating tiny pools of water high on his red, wind-chapped cheeks.

“You’re breathtaking,” Harry said, kissing the reddening tip of Louis’ cold nose. “I love you. I’m so proud of you.”

“I love you, too,” Louis said softly as he reached up to press his cold lips against Harry’s. “So much. Would it be possible for me to love you indoors, though? I can’t feel my face.”

Harry giggled against Louis’ lips and took off down the walkway toward the wooden door, jumping into the air and clicking his heels together. A loud string of giggles erupted from behind him as he most definitely did not stick the landing and narrowly avoided toppling over in the snow. 

They stopped at the large, frosty front door and Harry handed Louis their bags. He reached into his pocket and rummaged around in search of his phone. His numb hands fumbled to unlock the screen and scroll through his messages from the realtor, looking specifically for the combination to open the lock box secured to the front door handle.

“1-2-3-4-5?” Louis asked incredulously as he watched Harry pop the box open and retrieve the key. “Seriously? Are they hoping to get robbed?”

Harry pushed the creaky door open and a warm gust of air greeted them as they entered the cottage.

“Holy shit,” Louis said. 

Both men stopped dead in their tracks and let the door swing shut behind them. Though the cottage was tucked into dense trees on the front side, the view from the back was completely unobstructed and breathtaking. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the back wall of the living room, looking out onto the snow-covered hills beyond. 

It was tiny, but cozy. The living room contained nothing but a sofa, a chair, a coffee table, and a large stone fireplace. Harry was looking forward to getting fucked in front of that.

They carried their bags into the bedroom where the wall of windows continued. The large king bed pointed outward toward the incredible view. It was nearly seven o’clock in the evening, but even in the descending darkness, it was beautiful.

“This is…“ 

Harry searched for an appropriate word to describe how he was feeling. Nothing. 

“This is fucking sick.”

“We’re never leaving,” Louis said, dropping his bag to the floor with a thud. He fell backward onto the bed and stretched his arms above his head. “Call Vinyl Pimp and tell Nicholas that you won’t be needing that job after all. I’ll call the office and quit.”

“Heyyy, your jacket’s all wet from the snow,” Harry frowned. “You’re going to get the bed all wet.”

“Well why don’t you take it off me, then?” 

Louis smirked and raised one eyebrow seductively toward Harry. Harry let his own bag fall to the floor and took two steps toward the bed, straddling Louis’ knees where they lay draped over the side of the mattress. 

He bent forward and kissed Louis softly. He slowly dragged his lips from the corner of Louis’ mouth down to his jaw line as his hands found the zipper on the front of Louis’ jacket and pulled. His mouth gently sucked and licked at Louis’ neck directly below his ear.

“Mmm,” Louis moaned. “Feels good.”

He turned his head to the side, granting Harry better access to his throat. He raised his torso up off the mattress slightly as Harry pulled his cold, wet jacket down off of his shoulders and arms, tossing it on the hardwood floor behind him. 

“I love it when you kiss me there,” Louis murmured. “My favorite place.”

“You always smell good right here.” 

Harry let his hands drop to the hemline of Louis’ shirt and ran his fingertips lightly along the exposed skin, feeling Louis shudder beneath him. He wasn’t sure if it was from pleasure or cold. 

He pulled back and stood up, scanning the dark room. His eyes landed on a space heater in the far corner. 

“Wait, where are you going?” 

Harry watched as Louis dropped one hand to his crotch and rubbed his hard cock through his jeans. He groaned and felt his own dick twitch in his pants at the sight. He really fucking loved watching Louis do that. 

Harry scurried across the room quickly and flipped the switch on the side of the heater. The machine hummed to life and began pushing out warm air into the chilly bedroom around them. Harry turned and walked back toward Louis, pulling his shirt up and over his head and dropping it onto the floor behind him as he moved.

“I’m never going to get tired of watching you do that,” Louis smiled up at him from where he lay sprawled out on the white quilt. “Hottest fucking thing in the world.”

Harry climbed back onto the bed and resumed his position straddling Louis’ thighs. He reached down and pulled his shirt up to his chest as he dropped his mouth to Louis’ exposed navel and licked from left to right along the stretch of skin just above his waistband. 

Louis let out a soft moan and squirmed, so Harry pressed a thumb into each of Louis’ hipbones and held him in place as his mouth worked. His fingers dipped beneath the elastic of Louis’ joggers and pulled.

“You’re not wearing anything under these?” 

Harry watched Louis’ dick spring free as he tugged the soft fabric down past his knees, letting the joggers fall to the floor beside the bed. 

“I prefer to be free for long car rides,” Louis smirked. 

He grunted as Harry opened wide and took him into his mouth, sucking hard. He flicked his gaze up to see Louis swing one arm across his face and cover his eyes with his bicep. 

“Fuck, your mouth,” he moaned. “Your fucking mouth, oh my God—“

Harry walked his knees backward off the bed and stood in front of where Louis’ legs dangled off the edge. He knelt onto the rug and slid one arm under each thigh, hoisting Louis’ legs up and resting the backs of his knees over each of his shoulders. 

He grabbed Louis by the hips and pulled him forward so that his ass was dangling off the edge of the mattress. His hard dick twitched directly in front of Harry’s face. 

Harry took it back into his mouth, sinking all the way down to where the tip tickled the back of his throat. Louis’ hips bucked as he panted into the crook of his elbow.

“Oh my God, oh my God—“ 

Harry opened his eyes to see Louis’ white knuckles twisting into the quilt as his fingers gripped and searched for something to ground him. He groaned at the sight. 

He loved watching Louis come undone.

The vibrations from his groan caused Louis to buck his hips again, his cock slamming into the back of Harry’s throat. 

He loved feeling Louis come undone, too. 

Louis’ legs were bent at the knees over Harry’s shoulders, gripping and tensing to stabilize his body while Harry licked and sucked and bobbed his head. Harry dropped both hands to his jeans and unzipped them. His own throbbing cock was becoming impossible to ignore. 

Watching Louis grow increasingly desperate from Harry’s mouth alone was enough to send him over the edge every time. He’d had more than a few dreams about it, each time waking up to find himself grinding helplessly against his bed sheets, searching for relief. 

It was the way Louis looked. It was the sounds Louis made. It was everything about him that drove Harry wild.

His hand gripped his dick and he stroked, smearing some of his own precome over the head and shaft to ease the friction. He groaned around Louis again.

“Stop, stop doing that,” Louis choked out as he reached one hand into Harry’s curls and pulled. “You’re going to make me come if you keep doing that—” 

Harry opened his throat and relaxed his muscles to allow for Louis’ cock without gagging, letting Louis control the speed as he pulled desperately on Harry’s hair. 

Harry couldn’t help it. He let out another long groan, his own orgasm building as he stroked himself harder and faster. Louis’ fingers pulled and tugged wildly on his curls as he humped up and into his mouth. Tears welled in the corners of Harry’s eyes as he let Louis fuck his face.

“Fuck, I said stop, fuck fuck, I’m close,” Louis panted, his hand wrapping around the back of Harry’s neck and pulling him forward. Harry could feel Louis’ dick twitching and jerking at the back of his throat, seconds away from exploding. “Oh my God, I’m close—“

Harry opened his eyes to see Louis with his head thrown back against the white quilt, his back arched up off the mattress and bare chest heaving as he ground his hips upward and fucked into Harry’s mouth. The sight sent Harry tumbling over the edge, his dick shooting come all onto the quilt and floor in front of where he knelt at the edge of the bed. 

He moaned and cried out but the sounds were muffled by Louis’s dick still rock hard in his mouth. 

Louis made a wretched, wrecked sound and dug his fingernails into Harry’s scalp as he came hard down the back of his throat. Harry tried to focus on swallowing as he continued to jerk himself off, the streaks of his own come hot in his palm and his aching cock finally finding relief.

“Jesus,” Louis said breathlessly. “Fuck.” 

Harry felt Louis’ leg muscles relax their grip on his shoulders as he came down from his orgasm. He could feel his legs trembling as he reached up to gently help Louis out of position. 

Harry sucked in a deep breath as Louis’ cock fell from his mouth and stretched his jaw muscles by working it side to side. He reached his clean hand up and wiped some spit from his mouth and chin. His other hand still gripped his softening dick.

“I came on the quilt.” 

He looked down toward the floor to see the mess he had made and winced slightly as he rose from his knees. They were going to be sore from spending so much time crouched on the rug at the end of the bed. 

“Oops.”

“Nothing a bit of laundry soap can’t fix, love,” Louis said. He motioned for Harry to come lay beside him on the bed. “Think we’re supposed to toss all the linens in the wash before we leave on Sunday, anyway.”

“No use washing them now,” Harry said thoughtfully as he lay sprawled out beside Louis on the large mattress. He turned his head to place a kiss into his messy, sweaty hair. “I’m sure there’s more to come before this weekend’s over. More to come. Get it?”

Louis groaned as he rose to his feet and pulled his joggers over his bare legs. Night had fallen completely and the room was lit only by a dim light from the hallway and the moon shining through the large windows. It had stopped snowing.

“Come on, love,” Louis said. “Let’s have some wine and build a fire.”

“I will be building the fire,” Harry said as he followed Louis out of the bedroom, flicking on a lamp in the den as he passed. “You can pour the wine.”

“What, you don’t trust me to build a fire?”

“I barely trust you to light a cigarette.”

******

“I have a surprise,” Louis said mischievously. 

Harry looked down to where Louis was lying between his legs on the couch, his back pressed to Harry’s chest and messy hair tickling his chin. 

“Don’t freak out, though.”

“Are you pregnant?” Harry asked seriously. “But we were being so careful!”

Louis snorted and peeled himself up off of Harry before scooting to the far end of the sofa and turning to face him. The fire cracked and popped inside the grate beside them, sending soft orange light dancing on Louis’ eyelashes and cheekbones. 

It was still chilly in the cottage and they had been bundled up on the couch for an hour, finishing their second bottle of wine and talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. Despite the frigid temperatures, Harry was warm. 

He watched as Louis reached down and slipped his thumb under the top of his sock, pulling it off quickly and tossing it onto the floor beside the couch.

“You want to show me… your foot?” Harry asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you have foot fungus?”

“No. Well, I don’t think so. I don’t know. Maybe. That’s not the surprise, though. Close your eyes.”

A small smile played at the corners of Louis’ lips, conveying some emotion that Harry couldn’t identify. Excitement? Apprehension?

Harry obeyed and shut his eyes. He felt Louis straighten his leg and rest his naked foot on top of Harry’s thigh.

“Alright, you can look.”

Harry dropped his eyes right as Louis rotated his leg so that the inside of his foot was pointing directly up at Harry. A wave of déjà vu washed over him, though he was unable to pinpoint why exactly. 

His eyes landed on the inner arch of Louis’ foot. There, about an inch south of his anklebone, was a small but very clear X. 

“Is this a tattoo?” 

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise as he dragged his index finger over the small mark, half expecting the ink to wipe away. It didn’t.

“Yes,” Louis murmured.

“What does it mean?”

“You don’t remember?” 

Louis’ voice was quiet as Harry stared transfixed at the little spot of ink on the inside of his ankle. He dragged his thumb over the skin, thinking back to a time that felt very far away now. Back to a time when that skin was covered in dirt and sweat and swelling from a fresh sprain. Out in the woods, trying to make up for a first date gone wrong. He did remember. 

He slipped both hands underneath Louis’ foot and lifted it slightly. He bent forward to press his lips gently to the spot where the X was branded onto the skin. 

“First place you kissed me,” Louis said quietly. 

Harry closed his eyes and dragged his lips back and forth over the mark, thinking back to that day on the hiking trail. Remembering how Louis had looked. Smelled. Tasted. 

Harry had wanted so much more than just a kiss on a swollen ankle. He had wanted everything.

“Are you mad?” Louis asked. 

Harry opened his eyes and lifted his gaze to where Louis sat rigid on the couch across from him, watching him intently. 

“Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“Dunno, you’re not really saying much,” Louis picked at a spot on the cushion beside him, avoiding Harry’s gaze. “And tattoos are permanent and I didn’t ask you before I went and got it—“

“It’s not like you went and tattooed my face on your forehead,” Harry said. “Although I don’t think I’d be entirely opposed to that, either.”

His thumb continued to gently rub the X. 

“I love it. I absolutely love it.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Harry smiled. “But it doesn’t really matter what I think. It’s your body, you can put whatever you want on it for whatever reason you want to.”

“I thought that maybe you would think it was weird, like, what if we broke up and then I have this tattoo—“

“Why would we break up?” Harry asked as he bent forward to kiss the X again. 

“I don’t know, I don’t think anyone ever plans to break up, Harry,” Louis rolled his eyes. “But if it did happen—“

“It won’t,” Harry cut him off. “So don’t worry about it.”

“But it could,” Louis said. His voice was quiet and sad. “You never know what could happen.”

Harry dropped the foot to the couch cushion beside him and crawled toward Louis, draping himself over his chest. He blinked up at him from underneath his chin. 

The soft light from the dying fire cast shadows across Louis’ cheeks underneath his eyelashes where they shimmered and lay clumped together with moisture. 

“Why are you crying?” Harry asked. He reached up and tucked a stray piece of fringe behind Louis’ ear. “Is there something you want to tell me? Are you unhappy?”

“What?” Louis asked. “No, God no. Not unhappy. And I’m not crying.”

He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to the tip of Harry’s nose.

“I get scared sometimes,” Louis frowned. “Of losing this.”

Harry sighed and nuzzled his nose into Louis’ neck. He felt bad. Louis’ outgoing and bright personality made it easy to forget that he struggled with self-doubt. 

He absentmindedly dragged his fingertips over Louis’ heart. Harry wanted to spend the rest of his life tucked away in this snowy cottage, just the two of them. 

“I don’t need to be able to see the end of my road to know that you’re there, Lou.”

He felt Louis’ chest rise beneath him as he sucked in a deep breath. 

“I love you,” Louis murmured as he kissed the top of Harry’s head. “So much.”

“Love you, too. And I love that tattoo.”

“I’m glad,” Louis chuckled softly. “I was a little worried that you were going to think it was weird.”

“I already think you’re weird,” Harry teased. “I’m tired. Let’s go to sleep.”

He pushed himself up and off of Louis’ body and rose to his feet beside the couch.

“I’m too tired,” Louis complained. “Carry me.”

Harry sighed and bent over forward, tucking one arm underneath Louis’ knees and wrapping the other around his torso. He craned his neck forward as Louis reached up and linked his arms behind his neck, holding on tight as Harry straightened up.

He took off toward the bedroom, smiling as he walked with Louis giggling into his ear. 

He was warm.

******  
15.2

THE COTTAGE  
Saturday, December 13, 2015

 

LOUIS  
******

 

It was cold.

Louis shivered and pulled the fluffy comforter tight around his neck as he buried his face into the pillow. He listened for the sound of the heater but the room was totally quiet, enveloped in that special kind of heavy silence that settles on the world when it’s blanketed in snow. 

His arm reached out from underneath the comforter to search blindly for the quilt. He squinted one eye open to see that it was still mostly dark outside, with dawn just barely breaking through the large windows overlooking the hills. 

Harry’s sleeping silhouette came into focus in front of him as Louis’ eyes adjusted to the darkness. He was wrapped from head to toe in the quilt, looking very much like a large, hairy burrito. 

He smiled to himself and resisted the urge to reach out and take part of the quilt for himself. 

Instead, he scooted toward the mess of curls that spilled over the top of the covers and pressed himself close against Harry’s back, tucking the comforter around them both as he drifted back toward sleep.

When he woke again it was mostly light outside and he still lay spooning Harry from behind. He was much warmer thanks to their shared body heat and the pile of blankets on top of them, but his nose and ears were cold from a night spent out from underneath the covers. It didn’t help that Louis hadn’t bothered putting clothes on before falling asleep after a quick fuck before bed, and the thought of leaving his warm nest of blankets was not a welcome one. 

He braced himself for the cold and slid out from under the comforter, trying his best to prevent any cool air from sneaking in to where Harry still slept.

Louis’ teeth were chattering as he scanned the room looking for his suitcase. He could see that the light from the radiator was not on despite the cord being plugged into the outlet. What a piece of shit. 

Harry’s worn, brown leather bag lay in the floor a few feet to his right. He leaned down and unzipped the top, digging around in search of something warm to slip on and completely ruining Harry’s carefully folded piles in the process. 

His fingers found something thick and soft toward the bottom. They wrapped around the fabric and pulled it out to expose a heavy, knitted, oversized lavender jumper. Perfect.

Louis pulled the warm garment over his head, his frazzled hair standing straight up on end from the static in the cold air. It was far too big. The sleeves dangled past the tips of his fingers by inches. 

He stood up and winced as his bare feet touched the cold, hardwood floor. The hemline of the large sweater dropped to below the curve of his exposed, bare arse. He vaguely thought that this must be what wearing a dress felt like.

Louis crept over toward the small heater in the corner, attempting to be as quiet as possible as he moved. He had no idea how to fix it, so he just reached out and pulled the cord from the wall. He waited a few seconds before plugging it back in again and hoped for signs of life. Nothing. 

Well, fuck.

He stood up and looked at Harry buried beneath a mountain of blankets. He seemed to be sleeping soundly despite their room rivaling the arctic tundra. 

Louis decided that if he was unable to fix the heater, the least he could do was cook breakfast. His skills in the kitchen had improved greatly since meeting Harry and he felt confident that he could handle a basic fry-up. Well, maybe not confident, but confident enough.

He opened the bedroom door and was relieved to find that it was noticeably warmer in the rest of the cottage than it was in their bedroom. The other heaters must have been working properly. 

After a quick mental debate about whether it would be better to keep the door shut and contain the cold to one room (and possibly risk Harry catching hypothermia) or opening it and allowing some of the heat to enter, but at the expense of making the rest of the house cooler, he decided to just leave it open. He figured that they could crank up the rest of the heaters to compensate for the defective one. After all, they weren’t paying the power bill.

Also, Louis had begun making quite a lot of plans for the future, and Harry catching pneumonia and dying would definitely put a damper on most of them.

He padded down the hallway toward the toilet to piss and freshen up before heading into the kitchen. He grabbed a couple of pieces of firewood from the large stack by the grate and tossed them onto the still smoldering embers from last night, hoping that they would reignite. 

The radiator in the corner hummed steadily, filling the room with warm air as Louis stood in front of the sink and looked out the large window. It was bright despite the early hour due to the sun reflecting off of the blanket of white snow that covered every surface.

It was beautiful. 

He turned and grabbed the kettle from the small stove to his right and filled it with enough water for two cups. He knelt down and opened the small refrigerator to retrieve the carton of eggs that they had purchased at the small grocery shop a few miles down the road on their way to the cottage. They hadn’t bought much – the pasta for last night’s dinner, some eggs and bacon for breakfast, and two steaks for tonight. 

Also, wine. Lots of wine.

Louis sat the bacon and eggs on the counter and turned back to face the stove. He reached up on his tiptoes to grab the cast iron skillet that hung suspended from the rack fixed to the ceiling, feeling a gust of cool air brush across the bare skin of his arse where the jumper rode up. 

If he could juuust get a little bit higher—

“Oh my God,” he heard Harry’s voice from behind him. “Am I dreaming again?”

He turned his head to see Harry standing in the doorway to the bedroom, his eyes transfixed on Louis’ bare arse. He was bundled up in a pair of soft joggers, fuzzy socks, and a thick jumper of his own. His hair looked wild.

“I borrowed this,” Louis said flirtatiously, cocking his hip to the side. “Hope you don’t mind.”

He watched as Harry walked slowly toward him. 

“I don’t mind,” he said. His voice was gruff from sleep. “You look…”

“You like?”

Louis shook his bum playfully as Harry approached before turning his head forward and reaching higher for the skillet. He felt Harry crash into him, both of his hands gripping Louis’ bare cheeks and his lips landing squarely on the exposed skin of his neck.

“You look like a fucking dream,” Harry grumbled. 

Louis felt him reach his hands around to his front and wrap his fingers around his cock. He gasped and pressed both palms flat onto the countertop in front of him as Harry ground his crotch against his ass and bit the skin beneath his earlobe.

“Fuck,” Louis panted. “I was going to cook us breakfast—“

“I’m not hungry for food.”

Louis whimpered as his cock swelled in Harry’s big palm. He shivered as he felt his other hand roaming underneath the front of the lavender jumper and up his torso, his fingers eventually finding his nipples and rolling them gently. Louis shuddered and whimpered.

“Do you want me to take this off?” he gasped as Harry smeared his leaking precome over the head of his dick. “I can take this off—“

“No,” Harry said firmly, his lips and teeth still sucking and biting at the side of Louis’ throat beneath his ear. “Leave it on.”

He felt Harry’s hands grip his hips and jerk him around. They stood face to face, panting into each others’ mouths.

“Good morning,” Harry smiled devilishly.

He reached up and grabbed Louis’ cock and began stroking as he leaned in and kissed him. Louis moaned against Harry’s lips and frantically tugged at the hemline of his jumper, pulling it up and over Harry’s head and dropping it onto the kitchen floor. 

He let Harry walk him backward until he felt his thighs hit the breakfast table that sat in front of a large pair of windows. He grunted as Harry turned him around and bent him forward over the edge, pressing his cheek into the wood.

“Fuck,” Harry breathed out, “fuck, where’s the lube—“

“Bedroom,” Louis whined, “the floor by your suitcase—“

He felt Harry peel himself off of his back and take off toward the bedroom, leaving Louis gasping against the wooden table. He was back within five seconds.

“Relax,” Harry instructed. “Fuck, you look beautiful. Can I take a picture of this?”

Louis giggled and nodded as he reached down and pumped his dick lazily, waiting for Harry to snap a quick photo of him spread eagle and bent over a breakfast table. Absurd.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he said as he tossed his phone onto the counter. “Fucking art, Louis.”

Louis spread his legs slightly as Harry dropped to his knees on the floor behind him. He shivered as Harry pushed the jumper up to fully expose his arse and slipped a single, slick finger inside of him. 

Louis squirmed and whined, his breath fogging up the wooden table in front of him where his cheek lay pressed against the cool surface. He whined as he felt a second finger and Harry’s teeth sinking into the flesh of his cheek.

“Fuck,” he panted, “I’m ready, please, I’m ready, fuck me—“

He glanced over his shoulder to see Harry dropping his pants onto the floor, not even bothering to step out of them fully as he lined himself up and pushed into Louis. 

“Oh God,” Harry groaned, “oh my God—“ 

Louis felt Harry’s hand slip underneath the hemline of his jumper, his fingernails clawing at the skin of Louis’ back as he bottomed out. He stood motionless for a moment as Louis forced his body to relax, both of his hands gripping the edges of the table.

“Alright,” he said softly, “I’m good.”

He felt Harry pull out and slam back into him, shifting the entire table forward a few inches toward the windows.

“Shit,” Harry said as he stumbled to regain his balance. “Sorry.”

“Shut up and fuck me—“

He cried out as Harry slammed into him again, his large hands digging into Louis’ hips where he was bent over the edge of the table. Louis whimpered against the wood and dropped one hand to his dick, stroking quickly as Harry muttered profanities behind him.

“You look—“ Harry panted, “—so good—in purple—“

“Harry,” Louis moaned, “I’m going to come—“

He felt a surprising sting as Harry smacked his arse. Hard.

“Oh my God,” Louis groaned, stroking himself faster as the burn subsided. “Oh my God oh my God oh my God—“

He was close. Very close. He felt the sharp sting again as Harry repeated the action and cursed loudly behind him. 

“Again,” Louis panted, “please, please please again—“

He cried out as Harry spanked him again and again, harder and louder than the first two. Harry dug his fingernails into Louis’ flesh and smacked his arse one final time before gasping and coming hard, his body slamming into Louis hard enough to leave bruises where he was bent in half over the table. 

Louis’ cock ached in his hand as he stroked frantically, listening to the wrecked noises Harry was making as he held onto Louis for dear life and gave into his orgasm.

Louis whimpered and pumped his dick one last time before flying over the edge, his legs shaking underneath him as he shot his load all over his hand and the kitchen floor beneath him. He whined as relief pulsed through him. 

Harry’s breath was hot on the back of his neck. Louis was sweating underneath his jumper. His arse stung.

“God,” Louis grunted, peeling his cheek off the table. “Jesus. Fuck. Good morning to you, too.”

Harry chuckled as he pulled out of Louis and stumbled backward. He felt Harry’s large hands reach underneath his arms as he allowed himself to be lifted up and off the table.

“Shower?” he asked. 

He could feel come dripping down his trembling legs.

“Shower,” Harry nodded. “And then you can finish cooking me that breakfast.”

  


******  
15.3

Saturday, December 13, 2015  
THE COTTAGE

HARRY  
******

“Do you want to build a snowmaaaaan?” 

Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ shoulders and glued his chest firmly to his back. He took a deep breath in through his nose, smelling Louis’ shampoo mixed with smoke from the fireplace.

“Do not,” Louis warned.

“Do you want to build a snowmaaaaaaaaan,” Harry sang. Louis tried to squirm out of his grip. “Come on let’s go and plaaaaay.”

“That song will be in my head all day,” Louis groaned. 

“Okay, but, do you? Want to build a snowman, I mean?”

Harry released his hold on Louis as he felt him turning around. He rested one forearm on either side of Louis’ neck and leaned down, placing a quick peck to the tip of his nose.

“Sure,” Louis smiled up at him. “I haven’t built a snowman in ages. Do we have a carrot for the nose?”

“I packed a bag of baby carrots to snack on, we can just use one of those. Unless you ate them all?”

Louis stared at Harry, his face expressionless. Harry took that as a ‘no.’ 

He walked toward the small refrigerator and retrieved the bag of baby carrots from the drawer. He reached inside and rummaged around, pursing his lips as he searched.

“What are you looking for?” Louis asked.

“I’m trying to find one that looks like a nose,” Harry pulled out one of the largest carrots in the bag. It was split halfway up the side. “See? That’s the septum.”

Louis glared at him in silence before turning on his heel and exiting the kitchen.

******

Harry scooped up a handful of snow and balled it between his palms. He was biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment when Louis least suspected it.

His skin burned where he held the frozen snowball. It was too bad that they’d forgotten their gloves. And their coats. And their boots. Everything, really.

He watched as Louis bent over to cram three pieces of mulch onto the bottom half of their small, disfigured snowman. They didn’t have any buttons, so they’d had to improvise.

“Hey Lou,” Harry called out, launching the snowball directly at his back.

Louis turned his head just in time for it to hit him squarely in the face.

“Oh my God,” Harry clapped his numb, chapped hand over his mouth and ran over to Louis. “Oh my God I’m so sorry, that was supposed to hit your back—“

He watched as Louis dropped to his knees and wiped wet, snowy particles from his eyebrows and hair. His face was already red and windblown from the cold, and now it was covered in freezing snow. Harry reached out for him.

“Are you alright? I really didn’t mean to hit your face.”

Louis sighed and slumped his shoulders forward, bracing himself with both hands in the snow in front of him. Harry felt terrible.

“Lou?” Harry said, leaning in closer. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t have time to react as Louis sprung up and tackled him onto his back, stuffing two handfuls of snow down the neck of his jumper.

“Argh! Get off!” Harry cackled as he tried to wrestle Louis away from him. “Get off get off get off get off!”

Louis shrieked as Harry reached down and stuffed some loose snow down the back of his pants.

“Fuck! Are you fucking serious it’s in my arse you bastard—”

Harry cried out as Louis shoveled loose snow up and onto his face, but he was finally able to get a good enough grip on him to roll him over and pin him on his back against the snow. They were both panting and in full hysterics, soaking wet and freezing cold as melting snow dripped from their faces and clothes.

“Why didn’t we bring any fucking snow clothes?” Louis laughed as he reached up and wiped his eyes. “These jumpers are ruined.”

“They can dry by the fire while we cook the steaks.”

Harry tumbled down onto his back and lay on the freezing ground beside Louis. He could feel the wetness beginning to seep through the back of his jumper. He didn’t care. He was already going to catch hypothermia and die.

He looked to his left to see Louis with his eyes squeezed shut and mouth wide open, catching small snowflakes on his tongue as they fell.

God, he loved him.

“You know, this time last year, I didn’t even know you existed,” Harry smiled. “Crazy.”

“I know, right,” Louis agreed with a smile. His eyes were still shut. “I was just sitting around binge-watching Project Runway and eating way too much pizza.”

Harry grinned. Louis still did both of those things.

It felt like a lifetime ago, when Harry thought back to a time before Louis. A time before his mornings consisted of untangling his limbs from Louis’, their skin sticky with sweat from the night before since Louis preferred to sleep plastered to Harry’s back underneath five layers of covers. 

A time before his evenings consisted of deciding whose flat to sleep at since neither of them remembered how to sleep alone.

A time before his refrigerator was half-full of beer and frozen pizzas and leftover Chinese food from the nights when he didn’t cook for Louis, leaving him to fend for himself. 

A time before his weekends were spent lounging lazily on the sofa watching garbage television, his head resting on Louis’ chest or thigh as his fingers absentmindedly braided Harry’s long, tangled curls. 

A time before he felt like he was whole. A time when he was still searching for something that he couldn’t identify. A time when he was still wandering.

He reached over and took Louis’ hand in his own.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Louis smiled.

Harry rose to his feet and extended his hand to help Louis off of the snow-covered ground. They stood for a moment and brushed themselves off as much as possible before turning and heading back toward the cabin.

Harry glanced at their lopsided snowman as they passed. 

“I’ve got to say,” Louis nodded down at him, “that is, by far, the worst snowman I have ever seen.”

Harry examined him. His head was disproportionately small in comparison to his body. He only had one eye as the second rock that Louis had scavenged seemed to have fallen out of its socket and was lying sadly on the ground. The broken pieces of mulch that Louis had stuffed into his front as buttons looked terrible. Harry’s carrot hung crookedly from his warped face.

“He’s perfect.”

 

******  
15.4

THE COTTAGE  
Saturday, December 13, 2015

******  
LOUIS

 

“Do you want to play Scrabble?”

Louis looked up from his phone screen and peeked over the upper rim of his glasses to focus on Harry’s figure where he stood in front of the fireplace. He held an old, faded Scrabble box in his outstretched hands.

“You packed Scrabble?” Louis frowned. “You didn’t pack a fucking toothbrush, but you packed Scrabble?”

“I didn’t pack it. It was here in the hall closet, actually. A happy accident.”

“Scrabble is the absolute worst game.”

“Scrabble is a great game!” Harry argued as he sat the box down on the coffee table. Louis could hear the tiny pieces banging against each other as it landed with a thud on the wood. “You can take as long as you want, you have to think, you have to be strategic. There’s strategy in Scrabble.”

“It’s boring,” Louis argued. 

He was already scooting himself forward toward the edge of the sofa, preparing to play. Damn Harry for always getting his way. 

“Why couldn’t they have fun games like Monopoly? Or FIFA? Did you look to see if they had FIFA in there? And an Xbox? And also a television, by chance?”

“Monopoly destroys relationships,” Harry said as he dropped to the floor and sat cross-legged across the coffee table from Louis. “Gemma and I played on Boxing Day and didn’t speak for two weeks after.”

Louis reached out and lifted the top off of the game box, grabbing the board and the bag full of tiles from inside. Harry sat one of the wooden letter racks in front of each of them as Louis shook the bag and reached inside, scrounging around for seven tiles before passing it off to Harry.

“This is bullshit,” he mumbled under his breath. 

He stared down at his letters in dismay. An L, two E’s, two A’s, an R and an N. 

“I want to start over.”

“We haven’t even started playing,” Harry said, arranging his own letters in front of him. “You go first.”

“Why do I have to go first?” 

Louis shifted his tiles around, attempting to create different words. NALE. LEE. AN. LANE. LANA. Louis grabbed four letters and lined them up in the center of the board.

“ANAL?” Harry stared down at the tiles in front of him. “You’re playing ANAL on the first turn?”

“I believe that’s… four points,” Louis reached for his phone and opened a new notepad to track their score. “Your turn.”

Louis watched Harry try to stifle his smile as he dropped his eyes to his own letters. He glanced from his rack to the board and back three or four times before scooping up most of his tiles and arranging “LAMPREYS” off of Louis’ L.

“That’s fourteen points… on a double word score… so… twenty-eight,” Harry grinned as he looked up into Louis’ unimpressed face. 

“I don’t think that’s a word,” Louis said dryly, knowing fully that it was, in fact, a word.

“It’s an animal. That’ll be twenty-eight points for me. Twenty-eight. Two, eight. Twenty, then add another eight to that. Thirty, minus two. Take your score, and multiply by seven.”

Louis begrudgingly picked up his phone and entered a twenty-eight beside Harry’s name. He refused to acknowledge the smug smile beaming at him from across the table. Louis hated Harry.

“I love you,” he grumbled as he reached into the bag for four replacement tiles, “but you are the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

He sat the new pieces on his rack and stared down at them, trying to will his brain into forming words with the disjointed letters. PRUM. REEP. IRP. MEURP. 

These were not words.

“Tick, tock, tick, tock,” Harry teased in a sing-song voice.

“I will throw this at your face,” Louis threatened, picking up one of the extra letter racks from inside the box beside him. “Don’t think I won’t.”

He picked up two of his tiles and lazily tacked them onto the R in Harry’s LAMPREY.

“RIM,” he said. “On a double word score. Ten points.”

“RIM,” Harry repeated. “ANAL and RIM. These are your Scrabble words.”

“I feel like the Scrabble Gods are trying to tell us something.”

“I feel like you’ve just got a filthy mind,” Harry grinned, “and that the Scrabble Gods are not communicating with us at all.”

“They’re trying to tell us that this game sucks,” Louis batted his eyelashes and pouted, “and that we should abandon it for other more fun, more… adult activities.” 

He stretched his leg out underneath the coffee table and ran his toe up the inside of Harry’s thigh, causing him to squirm and giggle.

“I think you’re just mad that you’re losing,” Harry said, taking a sip from his wine. 

Louis reached his hand up and pulled the collar of the old, ratty t-shirt he was wearing down past his collarbone, exposing his sternum. It was Harry’s shirt. He licked his lips dramatically and winked.

“You look ridiculous.”

Louis slid off the couch onto the floor and ducked forward, attempting to crawl underneath the coffee table and face first into Harry’s crotch. He regretted it immediately. It was a much tighter squeeze than he had anticipated.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked.

“Going to blow you,” Louis huffed as he attempted to wiggle forward on the rug. His head slammed into the wooden underside of the coffee table. “Ow, fuck—“

“Wow, you really hate Scrabble,” Harry laughed. “I’m going to remember this the next time I want to get some.”

Louis craned his neck to the side in a very unnatural, very painful way and slowly backed out from underneath the table. He rolled his head around on his shoulders as he rose to his knees on the rug.

“I envisioned that going more smoothly in my head,” Louis said, raising one hand to the small knot forming on the back of his skull and winced. “A bit sexier.”

“Come on then, Sex Pot,” Harry stood from his seat and walked around the table toward Louis. He reached his hand out and took Louis’ elbow, helping him to his feet slowly. “I believe you promised me a blowjob.”

******  
Sunday, December 14, 2015  
******

“I don’t want to leave,” Louis whined.

He pouted as he stood by the car and watched Harry load their bags into the trunk. The sun was out for the first time since they’d arrived and the world was blanketed in white. He knew that this might be the only snow that he saw this winter. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet.

Harry slammed the trunk shut and pulled his beanie down over his ears. He looked adorable as he walked over toward Louis, the frozen ground crunching underneath each step. Louis reached out and wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and breathed him in as they stood staring at the little cottage in the trees.

“Bye, little cottage,” Louis said sadly. “We’ll be back next year. I’ll miss you.”

“Bye, little cottage,” Harry repeated. “And bye, little breakfast table inside the little cottage, sorry I fucked my boyfriend on you.”

“Bye, little couch inside the little cottage, sorry I fucked my boyfriend on you.”

“Bye, little bed inside the little cottage,” Harry sighed. “Sorry I came all over you.”

“Sorry we sixty-nined on you,” Louis said somberly. “Take care.”

He looked up into Harry’s smiling face and placed a soft, sweet kiss to his cold lips. They were extra red out in the chilly air. 

“Alright, time to go,” Harry frowned. “Back to reality.”

He kissed the tip of Louis’ nose and released him before walking around to the driver’s side and climbing in. Louis plopped down into his seat and began fumbling with Harry’s iPod, searching for something upbeat. He settled on Nicki Minaj.

“Reality’s not so bad,” Louis mused. “I just got promoted, you’re starting a new job, it’s almost Christmas—“

“And your birthday,” Harry reminded for the millionth time.

“—yes, and my birthday. And we’re dating, and we’re in love, and we’re still having sex, like, all the time. Reality’s really not so bad right now.”

He looked across the car to see Harry’s face scrunched up in concentration as he attempted to perfect the elusive seven-point turn to pull out onto the slick road without killing them both. 

He was quite fond of reality, actually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice.


	16. The Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis gets to celebrate. Harry gets a tongue up the arse.
> 
> They both get a flat.

******  
16.1

THE HOLIDAYS  
Tuesday, December 22, 2015

HARRY  
******

“Sit.” 

Louis nodded downward toward the chair beside him. He stood in the middle of the living room by the coffee table, both of his hands hidden behind his back. 

Harry tentatively walked toward the chair and sat.

“What—“ 

He raised an eyebrow as Louis plopped down right on the top of the coffee table in front of him, their knees knocking together clumsily. 

“I got you something,” Louis said. A soft smile played around the corners of his lips as he pulled his hands out from behind his back, revealing a small box wrapped in striped Christmas paper. “Surprise.”

“Why are you giving _me_ a present?” Harry stared down at the package in confusion. “It’s your birthday.”

“This is for Christmas.”

“I thought our Christmas was our weekend at the cottage?”

“Just take it," Louis grinned. 

Harry examined the gift, his chest warming as he took in the horrendous wrapping job. The red and green striped paper was crinkled and torn at the corners from what had clearly been multiple attempts at getting it right. There was a long, thin strip of wrapping paper haphazardly taped to the bottom of the box, the stripes lined up in a totally different direction than those on the rest of the paper and obviously added as an afterthought to cover a gaping hole in the wrappings. 

“What are you doing?” Louis asked, watching as Harry took out his phone and snapped a picture. “Don’t take a picture of that, I’m shit at wrapping. It looks bloody awful.”

“I love it. It’s perfect.”

Harry slipped his finger beneath the folded end and broke through the crooked tape. He lifted the lid off of the box to find a large, glossy magazine lying face up in the bottom.

“What’s this?” 

He lifted his gaze to meet Louis’ eyes. Louis seemed to be holding his breath in anticipation, watching Harry intently as he looked back down into the box and read the cover of the magazine aloud. 

_“London Property Guide.”_

“Happy Christmas,” Louis said quietly. “I know this isn’t really a gift – I got you an actual gift, too, I promise – but I figured maybe we could at least talk about it.”

“You… want us to move in together?” 

Harry dragged his fingertips over the shiny cover, which featured a large, brick building with balconies covered in crawling vines and adorned with quaint little bistro sets. Very posh. Very much _not_ in their would-be price range.

“I do,” Louis murmured. “Your lease is up next month and I’m not sure what you were planning on doing, we hadn’t really talked about it, but I’m pretty sure Liam is going to end up moving in over at Zayn’s when our lease is up in February. We sleep together most nights now anyway and the nights that we don’t I’m just wishing we were, I hate waking up without you—”

“Yes,” Harry interrupted. “You don’t have to sell me on it, Lou. The answer is yes, definitely, absolutely yes. Can we move today? Right now? This very minute?”

He leaned forward and wrapped Louis up, pulling him close and kissing into his messy, still-damp hair, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and soap. Louis laughed into his neck and began tickling his sides, causing Harry to shout out and squirm out of the chair and pull both of their bodies onto the floor.

“Heyyy, that’s not very nice,” he huffed out through his giggles as Louis dug his fingers in deeper. “Owww Louis stopppppp—“

“Alright, alright,” Louis smiled as he climbed off and walked around the coffee table toward the couch. “Let’s pour some wine and imagine ourselves living in rich people houses.”

Harry climbed up from his spot on the floor and went to grab the open bottle from last night’s dinner before taking a seat beside Louis on the sofa. He watched as Louis’ delicate fingers thumbed through the pages of the magazine, stopping every few minutes to ogle some of the very large, very expensive homes currently on the market.

“Oooh, look at this one,” Harry plopped his pointer finger down just in time to stop Louis from turning the page. “Six bedrooms, five toilets. Marble and heated floors. Double ovens! A large, private terrace.”

“Look at those windows,” Louis squinted and leaned in toward a picture of the master bedroom. “No sleeping-in happening in that room. Also, think of all the perverts that could peep on you.”

“Well, we would get automatic shades, of course. They would know to come down and cover the windows when it got dark outside, or on the weekends so that we could sleep in. Or if it got too warm outside to regulate the temperature, obviously.”

“Ah, yes, of course, automatic shades,” Louis nodded. “Look, Haz, this bedroom would be perfect for the housekeeper. And this one for the butler.”

“Yes, the butler and the housekeeper, Reginald and Moira. But they are having an affair behind our backs, you know. They will only require one bedroom between them.”

“Those tramps!” Louis sounded scandalized as he slammed the book shut. “That’s the last straw. Reginald was already on thin ice. I think we will have to let him go.”

“You’re ruthless. I love it. Plus, with the money we will save by not paying his salary we can finally buy that yacht we’ve been eyeing.”

Louis smirked and flipped the magazine open again, scanning the pages for something more within their means. 

“Here’s one. Studio apartment, hardwood floors, lots of light. Ooh, never mind, far too expensive. And kind of out of the way.”

“I’d rather not live in a studio anyway,” Harry said. “Nowhere to go to escape your smelly shoes. We will definitely need a bedroom with a closet. Maybe an airtight safe you can store them in.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Louis mumbled. “Look at this one… South Kensington location, one bedroom, small balcony. It’s a pretty old building, though.”

“It’s got charm,” Harry smiled fondly as he looked at the beat up wooden floors and large windows. “Look, exposed brick in the kitchen. Fancy people have exposed brick, Lou.”

“I don’t think this kind of exposed brick is what fancy people have,” he raised an eyebrow skeptically as he eyed the photo. “It looks kind of… dirty.”

“It just needs a bit of help. Hang a few pictures, get some plants in there… you just don’t have the vision.”

“I have plenty of vision,” Louis snapped. “Perfect vision, actually. 20/20.”

“Then why do you wear those glasses?”

Louis reached over and pinched Harry’s nipple. 

“You know I look good in glasses,” he smirked 

It was true.

“I think we should go see this one in person,” Harry said excitedly. “Let’s call.”

He leaned over and grabbed his phone off the coffee table, dialing the number for the landlord as Louis read it out loud from the magazine. A pleasant-sounding, older woman answered after only a couple of rings. Harry put her on speakerphone so that Louis could ask questions as well.

“—and it’s very close to the Square,” she said happily. “Lots of things to do, lots of trees and walking paths and whatnot. Plenty of young people around.”

“Do you think we could come see it in person?” Louis’ eyes twinkled up at Harry from underneath his long lashes. 

He silently mouthed ‘I love you’ before leaning forward and kissing him. 

“Of course!” she said. “I could show you tomorrow evening if that works?”

“Oh, uhh—” 

Harry’s heart rate picked up as he tried to think of an excuse as to why the following evening wouldn’t work without completely blowing Louis’ birthday party. 

“No, actually, we can’t make it tomorrow. We have… plans.”

Louis’ eyes darted sideways toward Harry as he furrowed his brow in confusion. Harry held up a finger to silence him until the end of the call.

“No worries, no worries, I could actually show you tonight if you could make that work? I know it is last minute.”

“Actually, tonight works great,” Harry said. “What time?”

“Could you meet me there at eight?”

“Perfect. We’ll be there,” Louis said happily. “Thanks so much.” 

Harry hung up the phone and looked over to see Louis still looking at him skeptically from the corner of his eye.

“What plans do we have tomorrow night?” he asked.

“Oh, right, um,” Harry leaned forward to grab his wine from the coffee table, taking a slow sip as he racked his brain. “Well, I wanted it to be a surprise, but I was… planning on cooking you dinner at my place. For your birthday. A special birthday dinner. From scratch. At my place.” 

Very smooth.

“Aww, that’s so nice,” Louis leaned forward to kiss the tip of Harry’s nose. He stood up from the couch and walked toward the kitchen to refill his glass. “Thank you, love. It will still be nice, even if it’s not a surprise anymore.”

“Good.” 

Dinner at his place. Not exactly a stroke of genius, but at least he didn’t ruin the surprise party, and this would also give him a legitimate excuse for getting Louis to his flat. 

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and settled back into the couch cushions, propping his feet up lazily on the table in front of him.

“We’ve got about… forty-five minutes until we need to leave to meet this woman,” Louis checked his watch and headed toward the bedroom. “I think that leaves us just enough time for a celebratory sixty-nine, don’t you?”

Harry was on his feet in less than a second.

******

“See? Charming,” Harry motioned toward the empty living room.

“Is that a bloodstain on the floor?” 

Louis pointed down toward a questionable looking brown mark soaked deep into the grain of the hardwood. 

“I’m fairly certain that this was once a crime scene.”

“I’m sure it’s just, like, a coffee stain,” Harry said skeptically. “We’ll put a rug down.”

“In the daytime it gets great light in here,” said Ruth the Realtor.

That’s how Louis had been referring to her since they got off the phone. Ruth the Realtor. 

Ruth the Realtor pulled the curtains open dramatically to reveal large floor-to-ceiling windows. Harry figured it would have been much more dramatic if it had not been eight thirty in the evening and pitch black outside. 

“Like I said, great light. In the daytime.”

“Is this window just _permanently_ open?” Louis walked over to the window closest to where he stood and stuck his finger through a small crack between the glass and the frame.

“Oh that’s nothing to be concerned about,” she waved her hand distractedly before turning to walk toward the kitchen. “I’m sure one of those home improvement shows on the telly can teach you how to fix that. Probably just needs a bit of grease.”

“Grease? How would grease help?” Louis mumbled. “It needs more glass. Too much window hole, not enough glass.”

“Sounds like a fun Saturday project to me!” Ruth the Realtor motioned toward the kitchen. “As you can see over here, the kitchen is much larger than what you see in most flats in the area. That’s the benefit of going with an older place, you can get a bit more for your money.”

“Yeah, Lou, we can get more for our money,” Harry looked pointedly at Louis who still had his finger stuck out the dysfunctional window.

“Would you mind if we wandered around for a few minutes, just the two of us?” Louis asked. 

“Oh, of course dears, I’ll just wait outside.”

Harry watched as she walked out the front door and shut it quietly behind her. He turned to face Louis, trying to contain the eager smile creeping across his face. 

“Harry.”

“It just needs a _little_ bit of work,” Harry immediately began to argue. “Honestly we could paint this room something brighter, these brown walls aren’t doing it any favors. Maybe a sunny yellow? Something happy. And over here—“ 

Harry walked into the kitchen and pointed at the little hidden cubby hole above the refrigerator. 

“—This is the perfect spot for all my cookbooks. And in here—“ 

Harry took Louis by the hand and led him down the hallway, the old floor creaking as they walked. They passed the small, dimly bath before walking through the door into the master bedroom.

“—Your bed would look great in here. Or mine, whichever we decide to go with. I’m partial to yours, though, to be honest. Mattress is firmer. Better for my back. And over here you could hang that picture of you and the girls from Lottie’s graduation, and look… the closet is big enough for all your sneakers _and_ my boots—“ 

“Harry.”

He turned to see Louis standing in the middle of the empty bedroom, one hand in front of his mouth trying to hide a smile.

“You hate it,” Harry sighed. “We can keep looking.”

“I do not hate it,” he said. “I’ll admit that it’s not exactly what I had pictured, though. The flat I had pictured us in had windows that fully closed. All stainless steel appliances in it. Brand new shiny hardwoods in it. A clawfoot tub in it.”

“This place has zero of those things in it,” Harry said as he took two steps toward Louis and looked down at him. He looked so soft in his jumper and beanie. 

“It has you in it.”

Louis brought both hands to Harry’s face and cupped his cheeks, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. 

“I love you,” Harry breathed. “I’ll fix the window.”

“Dunno, I kind of like it. Anyone could break in at any time. Living on the edge.” 

Louis wrapped both arms around Harry’s waist and nuzzled his chin into the side of his neck. Harry breathed in his scent and wrapped his arms around Louis’ shoulders. 

“My painting will look great in here,” he murmured.

“That painting is not coming within fifty meters of this flat,” Louis said, pulling away and kissing Harry’s cheek. “Come on then, let’s go tell Ruth the Realtor that we’re taking it.”

 

******  
16.2

THE HOLIDAYS  
Wednesday, December 23, 2015

LOUIS  
******

“I’ll swing by and pick you up around seven-thirty,” Harry said. 

Louis sighed into the mouthpiece of the phone where he lay sprawled on his back on the living room rug, absentmindedly tossing a tennis ball into the air above his head.

“What am I supposed to do until then?” he whined dramatically. “I’m _bored_.”

“Maybe you and Liam can go play footie for a couple hours. I talked to him earlier, he said he doesn’t have plans today.”

“It’s fucking freezing out.”

“Watch a movie, then,” Harry suggested. 

“I’ve seen all the movies.”

“You’ve seen _all_ the movies,” he said dryly. “All of them. Every movie, ever.”

“Yes,” Louis grumbled into the phone. 

“No you haven’t.”

“Ow! Fuck,” Louis cursed as he missed the tennis ball and it fell directly onto his face, bouncing to the side and rolling across the room. “See, I’m over here injuring myself and you can’t even be bothered to come and see if I’m alright.”

“I’m busy, Lou,” Harry’s voice sounded distracted from the other end of the line. “I’ll be there in… two hours. You could do some online shopping for our new flat! We need to find a rug. Or go take a bath and light some candles or something. Pamper yourself.”

“Or you could come over and take a bath with meeee,” Louis purred seductively. “Come on, it’s been ages since we took a bath together.”

“That’s because it was a complete disaster last time,” Louis could hear Harry rummaging around in the background as he spoke. “We don’t fit in there together. We overflowed the tub and you left me to clean it up.”

“Pleeeease. I’m bored and it’s my birthday,” Louis rolled over and buried his face into the rug as he complained. He knew that he sounded like a petulant child but he didn’t much care. He was bored. “Please please please—“

“Technically your birthday is tomorrow. Now I have to go. I’ll see you in two hours. I’m confident that you – an intelligent, semi-functioning adult – can somehow entertain yourself until then. Love you.”

“Hate you,” Louis grumbled.

His words were muffled by the weave of the carpet beneath his face. It needed to be vacuumed. He wasn’t sure if he owned a vacuum. He heard Harry chuckle on the other end before the line went dead.

Louis rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. The flat was dark thanks to the cloudy, cold weather outside. He pulled the sleeves of Harry’s lavender jumper down over his hands and balled up his fists. What to do for two hours?

Ruth the Realtor had called earlier to let them know that they had gotten the flat. Louis had still been sleeping despite it being nearly ten in the morning when she rang, taking full advantage of the holiday week off of work for some quality time with his bed. Harry had come running into the room and had jumped on him, rudely waking him up to inform him that they would be official housemates as of January 9, 2016. That gave them just over two weeks to pack up their lives into boxes and prepare for the move. 

He needed to tell Liam. They hadn’t discussed what was going to happen when their lease was up in February, and Louis felt like maybe there was a reason for that. Maybe they both knew that this was it. And that was alright.

They still needed to talk about it, though.

Harry had left him around lunchtime, claiming that he had some errands to run before Louis’ birthday dinner this evening. Grocery shopping and whatnot. Louis hoped that he was making something fried. He probably wasn’t.

He sighed and pushed himself into a seated position, leaning forward and grabbing his toes to stretch his sore back. He wanted a cigarette.

He rose to his feet and headed down the hallway toward his bedroom, figuring that if he had a few hours to kill he might as well start packing his bag for Doncaster. His mum was expecting him by noon for Christmas Eve lunch, meaning he would need to leave London first thing in the morning to make it on time.

He bent down and reached under his bed, blindly searching for the old canvas footie bag that he used as a suitcase. He slid it out and shook it off, coughing into his palm as dust flew into the air around him. He was terrified to have to clean this place before moving out after four years of neglecting to do so much as sweep.

Louis unzipped the top and turned the bag upside down sending a stray, white sock tumbling out onto the bedroom floor in front of him. One of Harry’s. It must have found its way into his things when they had packed up to leave the mountains.

It looked clean, but he picked it up and sniffed it just to be sure. It smelled like Harry’s detergent.

He walked over to his dresser and pulled open the small drawer toward the top, dropping Harry’s sock into the mess of his own. His were mostly colorful and patterned and low enough not to be seen in his Vans and old and worn from years of wear and tear. Harry’s lay draped across the top of the pile, soft and white and clean and perfect. It looked funny, mixed in with all of Louis’ mess. It stood out.

He shut the door quietly and smiled to himself. Harry’s socks inside his sock drawer. Harry’s water glass sitting on his nightstand. Harry’s dirty pants and shirts in his hamper. Harry’s curly hair clogging his shower drain. Harry’s laptop plugged in on his desk. Harry’s scent on his bed sheets and pillow. 

Harry’s everything on Louis’ everywhere.

******

“I see you survived the afternoon somehow,” Harry smiled across the threshold as he leaned casually against the doorframe. “I knew you could do it.”

Louis rolled his eyes and leaned back to grab his wallet and keys. He pressed the tip of his index finger firmly against Harry’s sternum and pushed him backward into the hallway, tugging the door shut behind him. 

“It was awful,” he grumbled. “So boring.”

“What did you do?”

“Packed for Donny,” he removed his key from the locked door and turned slowly to face Harry. “Found one of your socks, by the way.”

“I’ve been looking for that!” 

Louis shook his head fondly. Of course Harry was the kind of person who noticed when one sock went missing. He had probably spent the last month consoling the other half of the pair, worried that it might be lonely without its partner.

“Hey, you,” he leaned up and gently bit at Harry’s bottom lip. “You didn’t need to pick me up, you know. I could have driven myself.”

“Yeah, but it’s your birthday. You don’t need to lift a finger tonight.”

“I like the sound of that,” Louis wiggled his eyebrows seductively. “Does that mean you’ll be lifting enough fingers for the both of us?”

Harry groaned and dropped both hands to Louis’ arse, slipping his palms inside the back pockets of his jeans and squeezing tightly. Louis tipped his head back as Harry hummed and giggled into the side of his neck.

“What’s this?” he heard an angry voice from over his shoulder. “Get your hands off each other right this minute, you know children live in this building, don’t you? Indecent, improper, like animals, young people are.”

Louis looked up to see Mildred hobbling down the hallway toward them, a grocery bag swinging in her free hand and a walking cane gripped in the other. Louis sighed and smacked Harry’s arse playfully as he moved to back away.

“I said none of that!” she lifted her cane and whacked Louis in the calf with it. “Kids these days got no respect for anyone—“

“Jesus Christ!” Louis cried out, rubbing the stinging flesh on the back of his leg. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Let’s go,” Harry nodded toward the stairwell and took Louis by the hand, dragging him away from where Mildred stood at her door still babbling angrily. “I’m scared of her.”

“The old bat is crazy! She hit me with her fucking stick! Did you see that? Did you see it?”

“Yeah,” he saw Harry look backward over his shoulder, his eyes wide in shock or fear or a mixture of the two. “Let’s just go.”

“Won’t miss her when we move,” Louis muttered, following Harry out the door and onto the sidewalk. “Jesus, I’m going to have a bruise! That was assault, that was!”

He plopped down into the passenger seat of Harry’s car and waited for him to start the engine, leaning forward and wincing as he rubbed his sore calf. Crazy old woman. He should have called the police.

He turned his head to see Harry staring at him, a stupid smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“What?”

“I got you something,” Harry said. 

“What is it?”

“Close your eyes.”

Louis grinned and let his eyelids droop, attempting to peek and listening intently as Harry reached around the back of his seat and rummaged in the floorboard.

“Alright, open up.”

Louis blinked a few times and saw a bright pink and orange birthday hat perched in Harry’s hands. The message “I’M OLD” was written in purple glitter across the front.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not wearing that.”

“Pleeeeeease,” Harry said sweetly. “Pleeeeeease pleeeeeeease pleeeeeeeease—“

“You’re joking right? This is awful!”

“Please, Lou? It’ll make me happy, just while we eat, please? Please, pleeeease—“

“Okay, okay,” Louis laughed. “No need to beg. I’ll think about it.”

He watched as Harry smiled and pulled the car out of the parking space, clearly satisfied with himself. Louis placed the hideous birthday hat in his lap and settled back into his seat, watching the street lamps pass by as they made their way toward Harry’s flat.

“So what are you cooking me?” he asked.

“Uh, it’s a surprise.”

“What are we doing after dinner?”

“Uhh,” Harry glanced out his window, avoiding Louis’ eyes. “That’s also a surprise.”

“You’re acting weird,” Louis said. “Are you hiding something?”

“No.”

“You are! You’re hiding something, I can tell.”

“I’m not,” Harry said over-eagerly. “Just want to make dinner special, is all.”

Louis pursed his lips and raised one eyebrow skeptically. Harry was a horrible liar. 

“You got me a present,” he guessed. “And it’s waiting at your flat. Is it big? Is it expensive? Is it David Beckham? Are we having a threesome with David Beckham?”

“Damn, you guessed it,” Harry shook his head dejectedly. “Now the surprise is ruined.”

He grinned and reached across the console to take Louis’ hand and lift it to his mouth. He gently kissed each finger as his eyes remained focused on the road ahead, his lips lingering on each knuckle for a few seconds before moving onto the next. Louis sighed as he let his head loll back and rest on the car seat behind him, watching Harry’s beautiful face as he drove.

“I love you, Lou,” Harry murmured against his skin. “Happy Birthday.”

******

Louis unfastened his seatbelt and reached for the door handle, tugging gently. Nothing happened

“It’s locked,” he said to Harry.

“I know.”

Louis stared at him.

“Can you unlock it?”

“No,” Harry smiled.

“Why?”

“You’re not wearing your hat.”

Louis looked down into his lap to where the hideous birthday hat lay clasped in his hand. 

“But I’m going to look stupid.”

“Please,” Harry begged. “I want you to wear it for your birthday dinner. It’s just the two of us, no one will see.”

Louis sighed and rolled his eyes, sliding the small hat onto the top of his head and pulling the elastic band down underneath his chin. He felt like an idiot.

“I feel like an idiot.”

“You look perfect,” Harry smiled. He leaned across the console and kissed the tip of Louis’ nose. “My little birthday boy.”

Louis groaned. This was his nightmare.

Harry unlocked the doors and Louis climbed out of the car, fervently hoping that he wouldn’t see anyone he knew between the street and Harry’s flat. Harry held the door open for him as he walked through and started up the stairwell.

“Your arse is the eighth wonder of the world,” Harry said, reaching up to where Louis climbed the steps in front of him and squeezing each of his cheeks. Louis giggled. “A true work of art.”

“You know, my arse and I share the same birthday,” Louis grinned. He shook it in Harry’s face playfully as he reached the top of the landing. “Did you get anything for it?”

“I think I can probably come up with something.”

Louis laughed and led the way to Harry’s door, stopping to let him slip the key into the lock and turn.

“I love you,” Harry murmured as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Please don’t hate me.”

“Why would I hate yo—“

Harry pushed the door open as Louis walked into the flat. He flicked on the light before being blown back by a loud wave of noise.

“Surprise!”

He stared at the room full of people as they all converged on him, cameras flashing and people shouting and pulling him into hugs and wishing him happy birthday. Stan, his mum, his sisters, Liam, Zayn, Niall, Anne and Gemma, Ed and a few of The Grade 8’s bartenders, and two friends from Uni that he hadn’t seen in over a year.

“Happy birthday, mate,” Niall grinned.

“Your gifts are in the kitchen,” Liam nodded toward the table as he pulled Louis into a tight hug. “Happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday, Boobear! Harry’s flat is so nice!”

“Lou, we got you a present, Lou, Lou, Daisy put it on the kitchen table, you have to open it—“

“Hi Louis, dear, lovely to see you again,” Anne pulled him into a tight hug. “I’ve been getting to know your family, they’re just wonderful—“

Louis freed himself from the tangled mess of arms and warmth and turned to face Harry.

“You did this?” he asked incredulously. “You?”

“Please don’t leave me,” Harry grinned. 

Louis took two steps forward and wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist. He nuzzled his face into Harry’s hair beside his ear and sighed.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I love you. I mean, I hate you for this. But thank you.”

“You want beer or wine or liquor?”

“Beer, please.”

He felt Harry place a gentle kiss against the side of his head before releasing him, taking each of Louis’ shoulders in his hands and turning him back to face the crowded room. There were only fifteen or so people there, but Harry’s flat was small. 

“Go,” Harry pushed him forward. “Mingle. I’ll bring you a drink.”

Louis nodded and took off, walking toward where his mum stood chatting with Anne and leaving Harry smiling in his wake.

******

“There are little flatbreads and plenty of snacks and wine and beer and some liquor in the kitchen!” Harry called out over the chatter and music. “Help yourselves!”

Louis looked on fondly as Harry climbed down off of the kitchen chair and nearly broke his leg on the dismount. Clumsy idiot. They locked eyes and Louis gestured toward the empty sofa, leading the way as the two men walked into the living room and sunk down into the cushions.

“So. Exactly how did you pull this off?” Louis asked as he tucked himself into Harry’s side. He was warm and the beer thrummed in his veins and he felt full as he sat surrounded by the people that he loved the most. “How long have you been planning it?”

“It’s been in the works for a while,” Harry smiled. “You’re a hard person to keep a secret from, you know.”

“And you’re a truly awful liar.”

Harry smiled and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Louis’ forehead. 

“Your flat’s going to be a wreck,” Louis sighed. 

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m moving out.”

Louis giggled and lifted his beer to cheers the sentiment. Moving out. Moving in, together. He still couldn’t believe it.

“Have you talked to Liam about it?” Harry asked. “The move, I mean.”

“Not yet. Was thinking I’d talk to him in the morning.”

“Zayn mentioned something about Liam moving in with him,” Harry leaned in and said quietly. The two men looked up to see them chatting with Stan by the telly, Zayn perched lightly on Liam’s knee. “Not sure if he’d mentioned anything to you yet.”

“No, but I figured,” Louis sighed. “They’re so good for each other.”

Harry hummed in agreement against the side of his head. Louis glanced toward the kitchen to see Niall awkwardly talking to Lottie, offering her a glass of wine. 

“I think Niall’s got a death wish,” he grumbled. “If he tries anything, I’ll kill him.”

“Niall’s just a flirt. He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“I thought he was seeing that waitress? From the pub?”

“He is,” Harry murmured. “Or, at least, he was. She was supposed to come with him tonight, but I see she didn’t make it.”

“Hmm. Wonder why. I’ll still kill him, though.”

He settled back into his seat and smiled as Jay and Anne approached couch, plopping down heavily on the cushions beside Louis. They had been together most of the evening and seemed to be hitting it off swimmingly, thank God.

“I can’t believe you guys came,” Louis said to his mum as he sipped on his beer. “What did you do with the little ones?”

“Got a sitter,” Jay smiled. “Girl from down the street, real nice. She’s watched them a few times before.”

“You’re not driving back tonight, are you?” he asked. “Stay with me!”

“Your flat is too small for all of us to pack into. We’ll see you tomorrow for Christmas, love.”

“You could stay with me,” Anne offered. Jay turned to look at her, thanking her for the offer but insisting that they couldn’t impose. “No, seriously! I have plenty of room. Three extra bedrooms now that Harry and Gems are gone. You can leave first thing in the morning, as long as the sitter would watch the babies overnight.”

“You’re sure?” Jay asked. “I don’t want to be a burden, there are five of us—“

“You’re staying,” Anne said warmly. “It’s all settled. I would love the company.”

“Thank you, really, that’s so kind of you. Let me go call the sitter.”

Jay stood from the couch and weaved her way through the guests scattered throughout the flat, slipping out onto the balcony to phone the babysitter.

“Thank you for doing that,” Louis said to Anne. “I hate her driving at night. She’s an awful driver.”

“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” he heard Harry mutter under his breath. Louis shot him a well-placed elbow to the ribs. “Ow, shit, sorry—“

“It’s no problem, really,” Anne smiled. “I’m just so glad we finally got to meet! Such a nice person, I adore her.”

“You both are,” Harry said. “Remind me a lot of each other, the two of you.”

“Huh,” Louis mused. “Never thought about it, but yeah, you are a lot alike.”

“I think Gemma’s made a new friend as well,” Anne nodded toward the kitchen. Louis turned to see Gemma and Lottie talking and laughing over their wine glasses as Phoebe and Daisy lingered nearby. “I love all of your sisters, Louis.”

“So do I,” Louis’ chest warmed at the sight of his and Harry’s families mixing together and getting to know each other. He tucked himself closer into Harry’s side and smiled. “So do I.”

 

******  
16.3

THE HOLIDAYS  
Wednesday, December 23, 2015

HARRY  
******

Harry watched as Louis flittered between the various guests, stopping for a few moments to catch up with one group before moving on to hug and greet another. His friends from Uni had been difficult to find, but luckily Harry watched enough crime TV to know how to sleuth undetected. 

It didn’t hurt that Louis left all of his devices unlocked.

Harry wandered over to where Louis stood chatting with Ed and Zayn by the kitchen. He handed Louis a fresh beer and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him into his side as he spoke.

“Yeah, so, I start as soon as we get back from the holidays,” Louis told Ed. “I even have an office.”

“Congrats man,” Zayn lifted his beer and nodded. “That’s so sweet.”

“How’d you finally make it happen?” Ed asked. “Magee finally came around?”

“Bribery,” Louis shrugged. “Slipped him twenty pounds and he caved right in.”

Harry shook his head and sighed.

“He’s being modest,” he said. “He worked his arse off for this.”

“Didn’t hurt that I finally brought my dickhole boss a group that he liked,” Louis muttered. “Thank Christ I won’t be working under him, anymore.”

“What’s the group?” Zayn asked. “Are you guys signing them?”

“Don’t think they’ve worked that out yet, but they call themselves Little Mix. Four girls. Crazy talented.”

“Louis played me their demo and it’s awesome,” Harry smiled and sipped his beer. “You did good, babe.”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Louis grinned.

"You should have them come play at the pub sometime," Ed offered. "Anytime."

"That would be sick. Thanks, man."

Ed nodded and raised his glass as he turned and headed off in the direction of the living room.

“Hey, do you guys want to play tennis tomorrow?” Liam asked as he approached the group and tucked himself into Zayn's side, gesturing toward Harry and Louis. “Doubles, you versus us?”

“Yes! That would be awesome,” Harry grinned. “I’ve even got an extra racket for Louis.”

He turned to see Louis staring at Zayn and Liam unblinkingly. To be fair, Zayn’s level of enthusiasm toward the situation seemed to mirror his own.

“Boy, as fun as that sounds, I’m afraid I’ll need to take a rain check,” Louis said, shaking his head sadly. “Too bad, that sounds like a real treat. Leaving for Donny first thing.”

“Shit, I forgot about that,” Harry frowned. “Keep forgetting it’s already Christmas.”

“When do you get back?” Liam asked.

“Oh, not sure, you guys should just go ahead and play without me, though.”

“We can’t play doubles if Harry doesn’t have… well… a double,” Liam explained.

“I don’t mind sitting it out,” Zayn wrapped his arm around Liam’s waist and tucked his chin over his shoulder. “You and Harry should just go ahead and play.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Louis said. “You two just go ahead and play. We’ll do doubles another time.”

“What do you think?” Harry asked Liam. “Saturday, maybe?”

“Works for me. I’ll be back from my parent’s on Friday.”

He turned and placed a kiss into the messy hair beside Louis’ ear as Zayn and Liam launched into a conversation about Zayn’s holiday plans. Something about murdering his little sister’s new boyfriend.

“Very sneaky,” Harry murmured as he directed Louis away and toward the refrigerator. “Be a bit more obvious next time.”

“What? I really do have to go to Donny,” he said defensively. “Just a real shame, unfortunately.”

“You hate tennis.”

“I fucking hate tennis,” Louis nodded. “Fucking awful.”

Harry smiled and reached down into the fridge, pulling out a fresh, cold beer and twisting the cap off before handing it to Louis.

They smiled softly and clanked their bottles together before taking a sip and surveying the room.

“I think this turned out alright,” Harry said thoughtfully. “Wasn’t sure Calvin and Oli were going to make it.”

“I need to go catch up with them,” Louis said. “I’ve barely talked to them tonight.”

“You go do that, I’m going to go rescue Stan from Niall.”

Harry looked over to where Niall had Stan cornered by the door, halfway through what seemed to be a very sad, very depressing retelling of his date cancelling on him this evening. Stan was chugging his beer.

“Thanks,” Louis smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you too, birthday boy.”

******

“You ready for your present?” Harry asked, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. “Go on, then, sit.”

He pointed to the bed and watched as Louis scuttled across the floor wearing nothing but his socks, giggling and staring up expectantly as he crossed his ankles on Harry’s quilt. His half-hard dick rested against his thigh.

“But you already got me a gift,” he said happily. “The birthday hat. And the party.”

“Those don’t count. Ready?”

“Ready.”

Harry slipped his thumb under the waistband of his pants and pulled them down slowly, his cock springing free as they fell to the floor.

“Oh my God.”

He watched Louis’ jaw drop as he took in the small, satin ribbon tied in a bow around the head. He pushed himself up onto his knees and crawled to the edge of the bed, reaching out toward Harry and making grabby hands.

“Give me,” he said. “Oh my God. Actually, no, wait, stand right there—“

Harry watched him scamper naked off the bed and grab his phone from the dresser.

“Just stand right there,” he murmured.

Harry pumped himself lazily to keep it hard as Louis snapped a quick picture of him standing naked in the middle of his bedroom, a birthday bow tied festively around his dick.

“Maybe throw some filters on that,” Harry said, cocking one hip to the side and rubbing the bow suggestively. “Everything looks better in black and white.”

“No way. It’s perfect.”

He dropped his phone onto the bedside table and pulled Harry into a kiss. Harry went easily, their cocks bumping together and hands wandering over each other’s chests and arms.

“Best birthday ever,” he murmured into Harry’s ear. “Thank you.”

Harry felt the backs of his knees hit the edge of his mattress as Louis pressed both of his palms to his pecs and shoved him backward down onto the bed. Harry panted as he looked up at Louis standing over him, staring down hungrily at his cock.

He reached down and grabbed Harry’s hips before bringing his mouth to the ribbon and biting, pulling back and untying the bow as he went. Harry shut his eyes and tipped his head back as Louis licked a stripe up the underside, digging his fingernails into Harry’s flesh.

“Turn over,” he growled.

Harry groaned and rolled his body over onto his stomach, his cheek smashed against the soft quilt beneath him as he waited patiently for Louis to touch him.

“Spread your legs,” he heard from behind him. “Wider.”

Harry did as he was told, separating his thighs and reaching down to slide a pillow beneath his hips. He rested his forehead in the crook of his elbow and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Thank you,” Louis murmured. Harry could feel him slotting himself between his knees and dragging his fingertips up the backs of his thighs. “For tonight. For all of this. For everything.”

Harry whined as Louis’ fingernails dug into the soft flesh where his arse met his legs and pulled his cheeks apart. He could feel his hot breath as he bit and licked and sucked on the skin.

“Louis,” Harry tucked his knees up underneath himself, suspending his arse in the air for better access. “Please—“

He moaned as he felt Louis’ tongue drag over his hole, slick and wet and warm. He heard the unmistakable sound of the cap of the lube popping open behind him, followed by the feeling of Louis’ slippery finger massaging his opening. Harry groaned.

“You’re always going on and on about my arse,” Louis mumbled, “but yours is the best I’ve ever seen.”

Harry gasped as he felt one finger inch its way inside, sliding in and out easily beside Louis’ lips and tongue. He ground his hips down onto the pillow beneath him, searching for some friction against his hard dick. He wanted to touch.

“No touching,” Louis murmured, as though he were reading his mind. “Not yet.”

Harry whined and gripped the quilt between his fingers. 

“I want to touch,” he panted. “Please—“

“No.”

Harry whimpered and bit into the flesh of his forearm as Louis’ tongue slipped inside him behind where his finger worked. 

“Oh my God, please—“

“I said no,” Louis growled. 

Harry groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Louis slide a second finger in, stroking his walls and searching for his prostate. He ground his hips against the pillow and curled his toes as his cock throbbed, begging to be touched.

“I love you,” he heard Louis whisper as he inserted a third finger. “I love you so much, Haz.”

Harry sobbed as Louis struck his prostate and kneaded down, licking and sucking and biting as his fingers worked. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Louis murmured. “I love you.”

Harry cried out and grabbed frantically at the bedding, the tip of his dick blurting precome all over the pillow and smearing messily on his hips and thigh. He was dying to touch it. Grab it. Stroke it. Fuck.

“Fuck, Louis, fuck me, please—“

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, Jesus yes please—“

“Alright love, alright,” Louis said soothingly. 

Harry felt the tip of Louis’ cock drag against his slick hole and push inside. He tensed his muscles momentarily before forcing himself to relax around Louis, biting down on the skin of his arm to keep from crying out.

He felt Louis push in further as he sobbed into his elbow, thrusting desperately to try to alleviate the building pressure in his groin. He felt Louis bottom out as his thighs hit his arse.

“Tell me when your ready—“

“I’m ready,” Harry panted. “I’m ready fuck me—“

He cried out as Louis pulled back and slammed into him, knocking him forward on his elbows and causing his cheek to drag against the quilt. Harry’s dick ached and he wanted nothing more than to reach down and grab it, wouldn’t take more than just a few strokes, two at the most, if that, and he’d be done, finished, adios—

“Tell me when you’re close,” Louis grumbled.

“I’m close,” Harry panted, “I’m close fuck—“

He felt Louis stop moving behind him and reach his hand around Harry’s waist, gripping the base of his throbbing cock and squeezing. Harry shuddered and cried out, teetering on the edge of orgasm but unable to reach it as Louis’ fingers kept him closed off, deprived of any relief.

“Please, Lou, please,” Harry begged. “Please.”

He felt Louis biting at his fleshy love handles and back. He felt the throbbing subside slightly as Louis gripped the bottom of the shaft and murmured against his skin.

“Not yet. Not yet. Hold on, love.”

Harry sobbed and dropped his forehead to his arm, grinding frantically but unable to come. Louis released his hold slowly, making sure that Harry was far enough back from the edge that he wasn’t going to lose control.

“Not yet.”

Harry whimpered as Louis began moving again, his cock dragging against Harry’s prostate and making him frantic. 

“I can’t,” he gasped, “I’m too close, Louis—“

He felt Louis’ hand reach back around as he continued to thrust into Harry, resuming its spot at the base of his dick and gripping tightly as he fucked into him over and over again.

“Please, please, please,” Harry sobbed, “please, oh God please—“

Louis groaned and thrusted harder, slamming into Harry and crying out as he came. Harry felt his come hot and wet inside his arse as he babbled incoherently, his body shuddering as he hung suspended in the plateau right before orgasm.

“I can’t take it Lou I can’t take it it’s too much it’s too much I can’t—“

Louis released his fingers and palmed Harry’s dick, wet with precome and sweat, and stroked once. Harry exploded onto the pillow and sheets, his entire body trembling and rolling as each load of come shot wildly onto the bedding beneath him. He sobbed into his arm and curled his toes, gripping wildly at Louis’ arm where he continued to jerk him off.

“Oh my God,” he panted, tears streaking down his face. “Oh my God.”

Louis was whimpering quietly as he placed gentle, closed-mouth kisses onto Harry’s back. Harry’s muscles finally relaxed as his sensitive cock slipped from Louis’ palm, spent and tired and thoroughly satisfied.

“Fuck.”

He sighed and felt Louis pull out of him, come dripping down from between his cheeks and slowly making its way down his inner leg. He sucked in a quick breath as he felt Louis’ tongue drag against his thigh, licking the white trail off of his skin and giving him a quick kiss before leaning back.

“That was…”

Harry trailed off as he wiped tears from his eyes, searching for a suitable description for the orgasm he'd just had.

“Kilimanjaro.”

“I’m sorry?” Louis asked.

“Kilimanjaro,” Harry repeated. He rolled over onto his back as Louis dropped to the bed beside him, the two men separated by the large come stain on Harry’s quilt. “Like fucking Kilimanjaro.”

He turned his head toward Louis and brought his hand up in front of his face, creating a gesture like a volcano erupting.

“Whoosh.”

Louis cracked up and shook his head fondly before staring up at the ceiling, his cheeks pink and forehead sweaty and hair wild.

“It was pretty good,” he grinned. “Really fucking good.”

“You weren’t supposed to be lifting a finger tonight,” Harry frowned, remembering his promise from earlier. “It was your birthday.”

“I did exactly what I wanted to do,” Louis said. “You planned this whole night for me, got my family here, got my friends here. How did you even find Oli and Calvin?”

“Hacked your Facebook and sent them a message,” Harry shrugged. “You really should get a passcode.”

“They’re kind of douchebags, now.”

“I noticed.”

Louis looked over at him and smirked.

“Thank you,” Harry murmured, reaching over to take Louis’ fingers in his own and squeeze. “That was amazing. A little torturous at times, but amazing.”

“You deserved to be punished,” Louis brought Harry’s knuckles to his lips and kissed each one gently. “I didn’t remember that I had that fucking birthday hat on for over an hour.”

Harry chuckled quietly. 

“Don’t worry,” he said sweetly. “I took plenty of pictures.”

 

******  
16.4

THE HOLIDAYS  
Thursday, December 24, 2015

LOUIS  
******

Louis blinked groggily and spit out a mouthful of Harry’s curls. His head throbbed dully but overall, he didn’t feel too bad. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” he heard Harry murmur in front of him. He watched as Harry reached back and took his hand, lifting it to his mouth and kissing his fingertips. “Happy birthday, love.”

“Mmmm,” Louis nuzzled his face into the nape of Harry’s neck and breathed slowly. “Best birthday wakeup I’ve ever had.”

Harry chuckled and dragged his lips gently against Louis’ knuckles.

“You were snoring really loud. Wasn’t sure you were going to wake up before your alarm.”

Louis groaned. He'd forgotten that he had to get up and drive to Doncaster. 

“I do not snore,” he huffed. 

Louis rolled over and sat up, swinging his legs out from under the covers and stretching his arms up over his head. He felt Harry’s teeth biting playfully at the flesh of his hips.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warned. “I’ve got to shower and load up the car and leave in… twenty minutes.”

Harry groaned and rolled over onto his back as Louis fumbled on his end table for his glasses. He slipped them onto his face and shut his eyes for a moment, allowing them to adjust to the room around him.

He turned his head to find Harry lying spread eagle on the bed with a small, red box perched on his chest. It was tied with white ribbon.

“Happy birthday.”

“What’s this?” Louis asked, surprised. “I thought you already gave me my gift last night?”

Harry looked up at him devilishly. 

“My arse is a little sore from last night’s present, actually,” he smirked. “This is a real present. Well, are you going to open it or not?”

Louis crawled forward and straddled Harry’s thighs. He reached down and picked up the box, slipping one finger into the ribbon and loosening the bow.

“This isn’t the same ribbon from last night, is it?” he quirked an eyebrow at Harry.

“I’m pretty sure that ribbon is ruined.”

Louis chuckled and tore into the wrappings, letting them fall haphazardly onto the bed around Harry’s body. He lifted the lid off of the box and peered inside.

“Holy shit.” 

He lifted the watch out of the box and examined it in the morning light. It was nice. Like, really fucking nice. Michael Kors. Black. Not too flashy, but really, really nice. 

“I love it.”

“Turn it over,” Harry said, his eyes twinkling up at Louis. “Go on, turn it over.”

Louis flipped the watch over and scanned the back, spotting some cursive text inscribed into the metal.

“ _I always have time for you_ ,” he read aloud.

He stared down at Harry. 

“You inscribed a Michael Kors watch worth as much as a month's rent with a pun?”

“Do you get it?” Harry asked eagerly. “Time. Watch. I always have _time_ for you.”

Louis shook his head in disbelief and lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of Harry’s curls in each hand and kissing him deeply. He so loved this idiot.

“I love it,” he breathed against Harry’s lips. “Thank you, thank you, I love it.”

“Happy birthday, Lou.”

Louis sighed and rested his cheek on Harry’s collarbone.

“Another year older. Going to go gray here pretty soon. Do you see any gray hairs yet?”

“I want to grow old with you,” Harry murmured into Louis’ hair. “Want to see you old and gray and wrinkled up, laying on me just like this.”

Louis felt his stomach swoop as he looked up and met Harry’s eyes. They stared at each other for a beat before he leaned in and kissed him again, this one softer and sweeter than the first. 

Louis brought his mouth to Harry’s ear and nibbled gently on the lobe.

“I’m planning on that.”

******  
Saturday, December 26, 2015  
******

 

Louis dropped his hands to his knees and tried to catch his breath. Fuck Harry for cancelling at the last minute and fuck Liam for guilting him into taking his place.

“Hold on,” he waved at Liam, not wanting to get pelted in the head by a ball. “I think I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying, you’re being dramatic.”

“My lungs are on fire,” Louis complained. He straightened up and rubbed his throat. “My throat is frozen.”

“It’s not even that cold out here!” Liam shouted from the opposite end of the court. “Come on now, this is match point.”

Louis groaned. He hated tennis.

“I don’t know what you and Harry see in this,” he grumbled as he took his spot on the white line. “Tennis should be reserved for the summer only.”

“Ready?”

Louis sighed and nodded, preparing himself for one final, miserable point before he could go home and eat pizza on his couch.

He watched as Liam tossed the ball into the air above his head and swung his racket to meet it, sending it flying over the top of the net and across the court. Louis lunged and made contact with the ball, sending it back in the opposite direction and bouncing just out of Liam’s reach.

“Yes! Yes!” he lifted both hands above his head in victory. Did you see that? Suck this arse, Payno! God, I love tennis.”

“It’s still 40-15,” Liam said, shaking his head. “And weren’t you just saying how much you hated this?”

“It’s not so bad when you’re scoring.”

“You scored once.”

“And it wasn’t so bad,” Louis argued, setting himself for Liam’s next serve. “So now it’s 5-1.”

“No, that’s not how it works. Now it’s 40-15. This could be match point.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Louis said angrily. “Who the fuck came up with tennis?”

He watched as Liam tossed the ball into the air and slammed his racket against it, sending it across the court faster than Louis could get to it. His legs hurt.

“Match!” Liam called out. “You’re seriously awful at this. That was the fastest game I’ve ever played."

Louis ignored him as he jogged across the pavement to retrieve the mess of balls gathered at the base of the fence. If he never saw another tennis ball in his life, it would be too soon.

“Why did Harry bail anyway?”

“His stomach was bothering him. Too much holiday pudding and sweets, apparently. All he eats is cubed fruit and fish and then he wonders why he shits his brains out after any sort of normal meal.”

The two men walked toward the bench beside the court and plopped down heavily, panting and sweaty and freezing cold. Louis’ nose was numb and running.

“So you didn’t mention how your holiday was,” Liam asked.

Louis reached down into his bag and pulled out a towel, wiping the cold sweat from his face and neck before tugging his jumper over his head.

“It was nice. Laid back,” he answered. “Well, as laid back as it can be with five women and two babies and my nan and one of my mum’s friends all packed in under one very small roof. How was yours?”

“Good,” Liam lifted his water bottle to his lips and squirted a stream into his mouth. Louis wanted a beer. “Got some money. A couple tickets for Zayn and I to go to some art show or something. Dunno, mum saw them and said she thought Zayn would enjoy them.”

He shook his head and smiled down to where his bag lay open at his feet. 

“Swear she likes him more than me, half the time.”

“Speaking of Zayn,” Louis’ voice was tentative as he curled his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees for warmth, “I heard you’re planning on moving in with him? Nice of you to tell me.”

Liam’s eyes widened as his neck whipped around to meet Louis’ gaze.

“Shit, Louis, I wanted to tell you—“

“Stop,” Louis smiled. “I’m fucking with you. It’s alright. I figured that was happening.”

“Are we alright?” Liam asked. “I should have told you ages ago, when we first talked about it, but I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“Yeah, we’re alright. I’m happy for you. Love you both.”

Louis took a sip from his own water bottle and winced. Why did people drink this voluntarily?

“Hope I haven’t fucked things up too badly for you,” Liam said. “This only leaves you, like, a few weeks to find a new place. Unless you want to stay in our flat alone, which would be cool.”

“Actually,” Louis smirked, “I’m moving out of our flat. Harry and I found a place.”

Liam stared at him for a moment before grabbing the towel draped around his neck and tossing it directly in Louis’ face.

“You wanker!” he said angrily. “You let me feel like shit and you’re moving in with Harry? Fucking hell, Tommo.”

Louis laughed as he watched Liam shake his head, pretending to be angry but unable to hide the small smile lifting the corners of his lips.

“Where to?”

“We found a flat by Kensington,” Louis said. He reached down and grabbed his bag as he stood from the bench, throwing the strap over his shoulder and taking off toward the entrance to the court. Liam followed closely behind. “Small. Kind of shitty. Smells weird. I think someone died in the den at some point. Harry loves it, though.”

Liam laughed and muttered something under his breath, barely audible but just loud enough for Louis to make out the word “whipped.”

“What was that?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at Liam.

“Nothing, nothing, just said I’m happy for you,” he grinned. Dickhead. “That’s not too far from us, either. Or from Niall.”

“I’m really excited,” Louis said quietly. “If you’d asked me this time last year if I thought this is how we’d be starting 2016, I would’ve told you to fuck off.”

Louis chuckled as he popped the trunk and the men tossed their bags messily into the empty compartment. Liam’s car was always spotless. Louis didn’t know how he did it.

“It’ll be weird, though, not living together,” Liam said thoughtfully. “Been together so long it had started to feel a bit like we were married.”

Louis made a gagging noise as he dropped into the passenger seat. 

“Do we need to divide up our assets?” he joked. “Can I have your telly? What about the Xbox?”

“The Xbox is technically yours,” Liam sighed. “But the telly is mine.”

Louis pouted as Liam backed out of the parking space and pulled onto the road toward their flat. Their flat. Not much longer and their flat wouldn’t exist anymore.

“You’ve been a good flatmate,” Louis mumbled. “Going to miss you.”

He felt Liam reach across the console and squeeze his shoulder gently.

“I wish I could say the same for you, but you’ve been literally the worst flatmate in the history of flatmates,” he smiled. Louis chuckled softly. “But I’m going to miss you, too.”

Liam dropped his hand back onto the wheel and the two men rode the rest of the way home in silence as Louis sat lost in his thoughts. 

Home. What a funny word. They were moving out, but honestly, their flat didn’t even really feel like home to him, anymore.

Harry did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice.


	17. The Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis facilitates a move. Harry gets an upgraded office.
> 
> They both celebrate Valentine's Day.

******  
17.1

THE MOVE  
Saturday, January 16, 2016

LOUIS  
******

“Can you lift up on your end a little? Not that much, Jesus!” 

Louis grabbed wildly at the leg of the table as it wobbled in his arms. If he dropped it, it would most likely fall backward and take Niall down the narrow staircase with it, crushing him in the process. 

The thought didn’t give him too much heartburn at the moment, to be honest.

“What the fuck are you doing? Lift,” he huffed out. “I can’t walk backward up these steps crouched over that low and if I drop this table Harry will kill me. It was his grandmother’s. Or aunt’s. It was someone’s.”

“Sorry,” Niall lifted up on his end, allowing Louis to straighten his spine as he mounted the final two steps to the landing. He walked backward a few paces to give Niall space to set the other end down, dropping his hands to his knees as he caught his breath. “This thing is heavy as shit, mate.”

“Solid wood,” Louis looked down at the worn tabletop and ran his fingertips over a deep scratch. “Harry says he’s had it forever.”

“He’s had it in every flat he’s lived in since Uni,” Niall said, leaning backward against the railing and rubbing his knee. “Actually, I remember it in Anne’s kitchen when we were younger.”

Harry had offered to buy a new kitchen table for their new flat, worried that Louis might not want the beat-up hand-me-down in his current kitchen. The table in Louis’s flat was technically Liam’s, so it wouldn’t be coming with him to his and Harry’s new place. 

He had argued with Harry for nearly twenty minutes over the table, reassuring him that he was absolutely fine with it, that he didn’t think they should spend money on a new table when they had a perfectly functional one they could use, etc. He’d said he was trying to get better with his money. He’d told him he would rather they spend it on a bigger TV.

He didn’t tell Harry that he was actually quite fond of the idea of having the table that Harry had eaten at as a boy sitting in their kitchen. All of the memories that would have been made around that table – dinnertime conversations while Harry was growing up, scribbling out math problems for his homework during primary school, sat in front of his laptop quietly in the middle of the night with his head in his hands and a hot cup of coffee writing term papers for Uni.

Louis loved sitting at that same table with Harry now, eating breakfast after a slow wakeup on a Saturday morning. Playing their fiftieth game of Scrabble for the evening as they slowly sipped red wine. Hunched over a pizza box and fighting for the last slice with their friends. 

He hadn’t mentioned any of that to Harry.

“Alright, let’s get this out of the hallway and into your kitchen,” Niall said. 

Louis bent his knees and lifted the table near the legs, huffing as he walked backward down the corridor toward flat number 928.

“Lift at the knees!” Niall yelled. “Don’t use your back!”

“I know how to lift, thank you, Neil!”

He was definitely using his back.

He angled the table over onto its side as he walked it backward through the doorway and into the messy flat, nearly tripping over a mess of boxes piled at his feet.

“Perfect timing, the pizza should be here any minute,” he heard Harry say from somewhere behind him. 

Louis felt two fingers pinch his left ass cheek hard as he panted and wheezed, his arms aching as he walked as quickly as he could in the direction of the kitchen.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he grumbled to Harry through his heavy breathing. “Might end up with this table on your foot.”

He and Niall waddled into the kitchen and sat the table down heavily on the floor. His fingers were burning from where they had been gripping the unfinished underside of the wood. He could hear Harry at the front door talking to who he assumed was the pizza delivery guy as he walked toward the refrigerator to grab a beer, flexing and releasing his sore hands to stretch the muscles.

“Get me one?” Niall asked. 

Louis leaned into the fridge and found it completely empty except for a twelve-pack of beer and a lone head of romaine lettuce that Harry had brought from his old flat. He grabbed two bottles for himself and Niall and twisted the cap off quickly, chugging half the pint in one go.

“Job well done,” he toasted, nodding toward Niall and raising his beer. “Table is in one piece, we are in one piece. Barely. I think that is the heaviest thing we have to move. All the hard work is over.”

“Not true,” Harry said as he entered the kitchen carrying three pizza boxes. “Your headboard is solid iron, Louis.”

“Arrghhh,” Louis groaned dramatically. “I knew I should have just bought that Ikea bed.”

“It’s okay, I’ll help you carry it,” Harry sat the pizza boxes down on the table and flipped them open one by one. “It will be easier to move with more people.”

“You most definitely will not help us carry it,” Louis said, reaching over and grabbing a piece of pepperoni pizza. 

He had no idea where the plates were and the kitchen chairs were still sitting in the bed of the truck parked out front, so he stood over the table and ate his pizza like a barbarian. He didn’t care. 

“You’re not going to be carrying any heavy furniture with that back of yours. That’s why we have help.”

“I feel useless,” Harry grumbled.

“You’ve been unpacking, that’s important. And you’ve been carrying boxes… also important. Just let us get the big stuff. I’m going to be too tired to give you a massage later if you throw your back out.”

The three men looked up as they heard muffled cursing from the living room followed by the unmistakable sound of glass breaking. Louis caught Harry’s eye, sharing a concerned glance before setting their slices down and heading to investigate. 

They rounded the corner into the living room to see Zayn crouched over the old, hardwood floor attempting to sweep up shards of broken glass with his bare hands.

“You’re going to cut yourself, let me get a broom,” Harry said, turning and running back toward the kitchen. 

Louis knelt down beside Zayn and began gathering up the largest pieces, quickly realizing that the broken item was a picture frame containing a photo from one of his and Harry’s first dates.

“I am really sorry,” Zayn mumbled as he dragged the side of his hand across the floor, gathering the smaller bits of glass into a little pile. “The bottom of the box gave out… I was able to catch the rest but I missed the frame.”

“No worries, the frame doesn’t mean anything,” Louis reached up and grabbed the broom and dustpan from Harry as he reappeared. “It was probably a piece of shit anyway. Don’t even remember where I got it. The picture isn’t damaged, so it’s all good.”

Liam walked through the open door carrying a large, brown box with the words Harry’s Gross Things scribbled across the front in Louis’ messy handwriting.

“Watch your step,” Zayn said to him from his spot on the floor. “I broke something.”

“Can’t imagine why, these boxes only weigh as much as I do,” Liam huffed as he sat the large box down gently on the coffee table. “Who packed these? I think this one’s filled with bricks.”

Harry walked over toward the box as Louis gathered up the last bits of broken glass into the dustpan and carried it into the kitchen. He looked back over his shoulder to see Harry’s grumpy face as he read the writing on the side of the box, pulling the top open to investigate the contents.

“My juicer, my vitamins, my spiralizer—“

“Your what?” Liam examined the white apparatus that Harry was holding.

“My spiralizer. It’s a vegetable spiralizer. You can take a vegetable, like a zucchini, and put it in this thing and it makes it into noodles. Vegetable noodles.”

“It’s an abomination,” Louis shook his head as he knocked the smallest pieces of glass into the bin and walked toward the kitchen table. He picked up his abandoned slice of pizza and took another huge bite. “Pasta made from vegetables. It’s offensive.”

“You didn’t complain when I made that five-cheese zucchini pasta last week,” Harry said, gently placing the spiralizer back in the box. “Even went back for seconds, if I remember it properly.”

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t offended by it.”

They finished their pizza in silence, all five men too tired and hungry to waste energy talking when they could just shove cheesy bread into their faces instead. 

They had spent the entire morning loading up Harry’s flat, then driving to Louis and Liam’s and loading Louis’ items into the truck, then driving to his and Harry’s new place and unloading everything. They were mostly done, with Louis’ bed and a few boxes of kitchen items the only things left still needing to be moved. 

Louis tossed his crust onto the open lid of the pizza box and sank down onto the floor, his back propped against the wall behind him. He was exhausted.

He and Harry had been up until almost three in the morning the previous night packing the remainder of his clothes and random odds and ends from his closet. Technically, he had told Harry that he was finished packing yesterday afternoon. 

Technically, he had lied.

“Sooo, here’s the thing,” he had mumbled into the phone around ten o’clock last night. “I may have not been completely truthful with the whole ‘finished packing’ thing…”

“How not-completely-truthful? A little? A lot?”

“The second.”

Harry had sighed into the phone, the dull murmur of the television cutting off in the background.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.”

The two men had sat on Louis’ messy bedroom floor, listening to music and talking while Harry folded the rest of his clothes and bagged them for the move. Louis had tossed shoe after shoe after shoe into a large box, most of them missing their mate and well past their prime, holes in the soles and smelling like shit. 

They had argued about when it is time to let a shoe go and how many pairs of shoes Louis owns and why he can’t seem to keep a pair together and why he can’t bring himself to throw them away. They had taken a break to make out for a bit until making out had started turning into something more and Harry had said that they most definitely did not have time for any funny business until they were finished. He had been right.

Louis glanced up and caught Harry yawning into his hand, his eyes bleary and his lids drooping from sleepiness. Louis wanted to take a nap on his chest.

“Alright, let’s get the rest of this shit in and then we’ll be done,” he sighed, climbing to his aching feet reluctantly and wiping the dust from the floor off of his bum. He knew that Harry would probably spend the whole night cleaning once everyone left. “We have to have the truck back by four o’clock.”

“I guess I’ll get the boxes,” Harry grumbled as he headed out the door toward the stairs. 

“We can get the headboard,” Louis patted him lightly on the ass, attempting to console him. “No need to hurt yourself when we have help.”

He climbed up into the back of the truck behind Niall, Zayn and Liam and scooted the final two boxes toward the back for Harry to grab.

“You got them?” he asked as Harry wrapped one arm around each and started walking back toward the building. “Be careful—“

“I’m fine, Louis.”

“You can make two trips, you know—“

He watched Harry disappear into the building, cursing under his breath as he went. Stubborn, grumpy little shit.

“Alright, Zayn, you and Liam take that end and Niall and I will grab this one, yeah?” 

Louis pointed down to where he wanted each of them to grab. All men stared down at the enormous, wrought iron headboard skeptically. 

“This is solid iron, so, might be a bit heavy, lads.”

“A bit?!” Zayn huffed out as he and Liam lifted their end and began walking backward toward the edge of the truck bed. “That was an understatement when you said it this morning before we loaded this fucking thing onto this truck, and it’s an understatement now. Fuck off.”

“It – was – a – good – deal,” Louis said between breaths, his hands already aching though they hadn’t even made it onto the sidewalk. 

It took all four men over ten minutes to get the headboard off of the truck without crushing anyone fatally in the process. They ended up needing Harry’s help after all – which he was very pleased about – as they couldn’t get it up the stairs with only the four of them. 

“Pizza wasn’t worth this,” Niall panted as they finally sat the large, black piece on the floor in Louis and Harry’s bedroom. “This deserved a steak dinner and much more beer. I think I tore my ACL.”

“That’s your hamstring,” said Liam.

Louis looked over just in time to catch Harry wincing and rubbing his lower back. He looked up and met Louis’ gaze, dropping his hand nonchalantly and rearranging his features to something much more pleasant.

“I saw that,” Louis said gently. 

“Saw what?” 

Harry walked over to where Louis stood, his back pressed to the wall as he rubbed his own sore muscles. He leaned down to place a quick kiss to his cheek. 

“I’m fine.”

“Alright, well, if you’re done torturing us I guess we’ll be going,” Zayn said as he took Liam’s hand and led him out of the room. “I need a bath and a cigarette and a massage.”

“Think I’m going to go to Ed’s tonight if anyone’s interested,” Niall chirped.

“Thought your ACL was torn?” said Harry dryly.

“Feeling better already,” he smiled. “Plus, want to see if that waitress is free tomorrow night.”

“Thought you broke up with her?” Louis said as they walked toward the living room. He watched as the three men gathered their wallets and keys and cellphones before heading toward the door. “Or she broke up with you?”

“Nah, this is a new one, mate,” Niall grinned. “Ed just hired her last week. Think her name is Melissa.”

“Ahh, young love,” Harry said wistfully. “Good luck. We have to take the truck back and then I’m going to sleep for three days.”

“Think we’re going to pass, too,” Liam said as the group spilled out into the corridor. “I’m exhausted and Zayn is apparently taking a bath and getting a massage… not sure who’s going to be giving him that…”

Louis listened to them bickering all the way down the stairwell. He felt Harry come up from behind him, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist and tucking his chin over his shoulder. His curls were tied back in a wild bun, the tiny, flyaway strands of hair tickling Louis’ cheek.

“Thank you for helping!” Harry called out at the three of them as they disappeared from view. “You’re the bestestest!”

Louis peeled his back off of Harry’s chest and turned to face him where he stood in the doorway of the flat. Their flat. Alone.

“Come on then, let’s go return the truck.”

“I want you to fuck me on every surface in here,” Harry murmured as he leaned down and kissed Louis, his lips soft and tasting like strawberry Chap Stick. “Floors, countertops, shower, right in front of that broken window in the middle of broad daylight.”

“That,“ Louis hummed against Harry’s mouth, “is a challenge I accept.”

******

“Can you believe this is all ours?”

“Yes,” Harry said immediately. 

“Oh really?” 

Louis raised his eyebrows as he turned his head on his side to peer at Harry. 

”I always knew that we’d get here someday,” Harry smiled.

Louis took in his profile where he lay sprawled on his back beside him. They hadn’t assembled the bed yet, opting instead to just take a quick nap on the mattress where it rested on the wood floor. The fading light from the sunset outside the window cast an orange glow over Harry’s features. He was beautiful. 

“You always knew?”

“I always knew. From the very beginning.”

“How?” Louis asked.

“Dunno. Just had a feeling.” 

He watched as Harry smiled up at the ceiling and pulled Louis closer into his side. He rested his head on the soft skin where Harry’s arm met his shoulder, his loose tank top lying crooked across his chest leaving one of his many nipples on full display. 

Louis flicked it.

“A feeling,” Louis murmured. “What kind of feeling?”

“A peaceful feeling.” 

Harry turned his head and kissed him gently on the temple. He could feel Harry’s fingertips dragging against the back of his arm as he sighed.

“I just always knew that it would end up like this. Me and you, in our place, in our room, on our bed. I was never worried. From the beginning, it was always going to be us in the end.”

“You are so embarrassing.”

Louis tilted his head up and placed a long, gentle kiss on the underside of Harry’s jaw.

“Do you love me?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, of course,” Harry murmured. “Always.”

 

******  
17.2

THE MOVE  
Saturday, January 16, 2016

HARRY  
******

“Will you hand me that bleach?”

Harry pointed toward the small container sitting on the floor a few feet out of his reach. Louis groaned.

“When are we going to be done?” he complained, reaching down and picking up the bleach. He handed it to Harry. “We’ve been working all day. My feet hurt.”

“You don’t know whose arse has sat on this toilet,” Harry gestured toward the porcelain bowl in front of him. “What if they had a rash on their bum? What if they’ve been sick in it? And now you’re going to sit your arse on it without cleaning it first? I don’t think so.”

He pulled the yellow, latex gloves up past his wrists and reached for the bleach. He poured a healthy helping into the water and flicked the seat up, exposing a very dirty rim of the bowl beneath it.

“Oh my God,” Louis gagged. “That’s disgusting.”

“Told you.”

Harry scrubbed using the toilet brush and bleachy water, making sure to get all of the disgusting remnants of whatever bodily fluids had been living undetected underneath the seat. After ten minutes, the bowl was shining and Harry’s head was swimming.

“I think I’m high from that bleach,” Louis said, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. “Jesus.”

“Flip on that exhaust fan, please,” Harry pointed at the switch on the wall. “I’m seeing double.”

He stood to his feet and pulled off the gloves, tossing them into the sink in front of him. He stared down at the spotless bowl and grinned.

“Beautiful.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Louis said. “It’s still a toilet.”

“At least it’s clean. We still need to paint this room, this color is heinous, but at least it’s clean.”

“Come on, love,” Louis motioned at Harry to follow him into the hallway. “You want some dinner?”

“Yeah, but I’m too tired to cook right now,” Harry grunted as he fell backward onto the sofa. “Give me half an hour or so.”

“It’s all sorted.”

“What’s sorted?”

“Dinner,” Louis grinned.

Harry looked up at him skeptically. 

“Did you cook?” he asked, peeking into the kitchen to find it untouched. Boxes still sat unpacked on the countertops. “It doesn’t look like it.”

“Ordered takeout,” Louis shrugged. “My treat.”

Harry sighed and smiled as Louis sat down on the opposite end of the couch, swinging his feet up onto Louis’ thighs and humming as he began massaging his sore calves.

“Sorry I couldn’t help more today,” Harry frowned. “Stupid back.”

“You did fine, love,” Louis tugged gently on his leg hairs and smiled. “That’s why we had help. How’s your back feeling?”

“It’s been better.”

Louis pursed his lips as he watched Harry reach his arm around his hips and rub his lower back gently. It was sore. 

“You stay here,” Louis said. “I’m going to hook up the telly.”

“I’ll help—“

“No, you stay put,” Louis lifted Harry’s legs gently from his lap and stood from the couch, placing them gently back on the cushion. “That’s at least one thing I can do.”

Harry watched as Louis walked across the room and knelt down in front of the TV stand, his big bum causing the hem of the back of his shirt to ride up and crease at the waistband of his joggers. He reached down into the box by the telly to fish out the Xbox, Blu Ray player, and the rest of his devices. 

Harry smiled as Louis plopped down on the floor and crossed his ankles, staring down at the mess of wires and electronics with his brow creased.

“Alright,” he said, cracking his knuckles, “Xbox first. Priorities, you know.”

Harry chuckled and closed his eyes, basking in the feeling of lounging around in the flat that they now shared, no worries that Liam might come home unannounced or that one of them needed to go get clothes for work in the morning or anything like that. It was all here. It was all theirs. 

It was a disaster with boxes and knick-knacks sprawled all over the place, but it was their disaster.

He smiled softly and let himself doze off to the sounds of Louis’ muttered curses.

******  
Monday, January 18, 2016  
*****

Harry groaned and swung his arm across Louis’ snoring chest, smacking the snooze button on the top of the shrieking alarm clock and quieting it. Sunlight poured in through the large window behind their bed, casting a warm glow onto Louis’ exposed back. 

Harry pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder blade before pulling the quilt up to his neck and slipping out of the bed, leaving him snoring behind him.

He padded barefoot down the hallway for a piss and a shower. He frowned and scanned the small room as he stood at the toilet and relieved himself, taking in the mess of toiletries and bottles and washcloths and hair product lying on the small countertop. They still needed to put everything away, but Harry wanted to paint the walls and the vanity first. 

Harry shook his dick dry and dropped his joggers to the floor as he turned and flipped the shower on, waiting for the water to warm before stepping inside. He smiled as he rummaged around on the shelf, digging through the mess of Louis’ shampoo and body wash to get to his own. 

He scrubbed his body and ran his fingertips through his hair, tipping his head back and letting the warm water wash the suds down the drain. These days his hair hung well past his shoulders when wet, and he didn’t need to apologize to anyone for it. Nicholas didn’t care how long his hair was.

Harry shut the water off and stepped out of the shower, tousling his hair with a dry towel before wiping his chest and arms. He wrapped the towel around his waist and walked over to the sink, scanning the cluttered countertop for a hair tie. He gathered the wet hair from the back of his neck and tied it in a damp, messy bun. 

He brushed his teeth quickly and headed back down the hallway to wake up Louis.

******

“You really don’t have to do this,” Harry said. 

He reached down and picked up the heavy bag of cleaning supplies at his feet before straightening back up and looking toward Louis. 

“It’s really not that bad.”

“Nonsense,” Louis shook his head and lifted the bucket. Harry watched as he took a couple of steps forward, swinging the bucket by his side as he moved and pressing a quick kiss to Harry’s lips. “I hate the idea of you sitting in that smelly broom closet all day.”

“I’m not really in there that often, to be honest,” Harry pushed the door open and waited for Louis to walk through. “Most of the time I’m out on the floor.”

“Well, I already took the day off. I want to help.”

Harry led the way onto the chilly sidewalk and inserted the key into the trunk lock, popping it open and tossing the bag full of supplies inside. Louis dropped the bucket in on top.

They drove most of the way to Vinyl Pimp in comfortable silence. Well, with Harry in comfortable silence and Louis singing along loudly to the music, but Harry had begun to consider that silence from Louis. There wasn’t really ever a time that he wasn’t making some kind of noise, so he had to be generous with the word.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Harry grinned as he parked the car. “Monday mornings are usually pretty dead and Sam is here, too, so she can handle any customers.”

Harry climbed out of the car and popped the trunk open, reaching inside to gather their supplies. He handed the bucket to Louis and took the heavy bag for himself.

“Hmm,” Harry raised an eyebrow suspiciously as he looked up and saw the dark storefront. “Sam should’ve opened the store by now.”

“What time is it?” Louis asked.

“Half past nine. She should’ve been here at eight thirty.”

Harry led them to the front door and unlocked it, flicking on lights as they walked deeper into the record store. He slipped behind the counter and checked on things, seeing nothing out of place. He frowned.

“She was late last week, too,” he sighed. “Come on, then, my office is back here.”

******  
17.3

THE MOVE  
Monday, January 18, 2016

LOUIS  
******

“Wow. You weren’t joking when you said that this was a broom cupboard.” 

Louis’ eyes darted around the small, cramped space. Floor to ceiling wood paneling, dingy gray carpet, and the distinct smell of old, wet mop water were just a few of the charming qualities that Harry’s new office boasted. 

“Just needs a bit of tidying up is all.” 

Harry looked around skeptically as he walked inside. With a computer desk and chair shoved up against the wall there was barely room enough for the two men to stand. 

“I should probably vacuum this floor.”

Louis dropped his gaze to the faded carpet. Vacuuming seemed like a good place to start, though he wasn’t convinced that it would do much good at this point. It probably could have used a vacuuming forty years ago.

He watched as Harry leaned forward and pressed the red, blinking button on the telephone.

“Hi Harry! It’s Sam. I can’t come in today ‘cause… uhh… I’m sick. Yeah, got the flu. Or a cough or something—”

Louis narrowed his eyes at Harry as he heard blatantly fake coughing come across the recording.

“—So yeah, real sick and won’t be in today. Sorry! See you later.”

The faint sound of the bell above the front door filtered down the hallway. 

“Shit,” Harry muttered. “I told her last time to call me on my cell if she was going to be out so that I’d have time to find someone to cover her shift.”

Louis heard the bell tinkle again from the front of the store.

“You go deal with that,” Louis motioned over his shoulder to where the customers stood near the entrance, looking very much overwhelmed and in need of assistance. “I’ll get started back here.”

Louis reached down and picked up the handheld vacuum cleaner from where it lay plugged in and charging by his feet. He turned it over in his hands and pushed on a small, circular piece of plastic that he assumed was the power button. 

The entire canister unhitched and clattered to the ground at Harry’s feet.

“Not the power button,” Louis muttered under his breath as he reached down to pick up the plastic compartment and reattach it. “Seriously, don’t worry, I’ve got it under control.”

Harry looked skeptically at Louis before leaning in and pressing his lips to his temple. 

“Thanks, love,” he murmured against Louis’ skin. “I’ll be back as soon as I get done helping her.”

Louis watched as Harry brushed past him out the door and down the short hallway into the storefront, his face immediately breaking into a wide smile as he shook the customer’s hand. He watched as Harry said something to her that made her laugh as she twirled her hair between her fingers flirtatiously. He rested his hand on her shoulder as he spoke and guided her toward a row of CD’s somewhere out of Louis’ sight. 

Cheeky little shit.

Louis turned his attention back to the task at hand, attempting once again to locate a power button on the handheld vacuum. He finally located a small, black switch in the back and flipped it, causing the small machine to spring to life in his hands. It smelled terrible. He tried not to imagine all of the disgusting things it had probably sucked up over the years.

He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and dropped to his knees on the floor, starting around the baseboards and working his way into the center of the room. The area under the desk was especially disgusting with spider webs and dirt from the previous manager’s shoes deeply embedded into the carpet. There were fifty-seven pieces of chewing gum stuck to the bottom of the desk. Fifty-seven. Not that Louis was the poster child for cleanliness, but even he had his limits.

Half an hour later and he was finally done with the vacuum. As he shut it off and rose to his feet to examine his work, he was pleased to see that the carpet looked marginally less dingy without a fine layer of dust and dirt coating it. 

Louis could hear voices from the front of the store. More customers, probably. 

He decided to wipe down the desk and chair and the wood paneling on the walls, hoping that he could get rid of most of the wet-mop smell that still lingered in the room. 

He reached down into the bag Harry had packed full of cleaning supplies, gathering an old towel, some cleaning solvent, and a large bucket before heading down the hallway toward the small restroom. He filled the bucket at the sink before pouring what he could only assume was far too much cleaning solution into the warm water. 

Another half hour passed as he scrubbed the wood paneling and dirty baseboards and wiped down every surface inside the small space. The smell of wet-mop had been replaced by an almost overwhelming scent of lemon cleaner. He was actually a bit lightheaded.

He peeked around the corner toward the storefront to see a small group of people browsing through the aisles with Harry in tow, pointing and talking about various albums as he walked. Louis turned back to look at the little office, completely empty and fairly depressing looking under the yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling. 

He had an idea.

He grabbed his keys and wallet and headed toward the front of the store, catching Harry’s eye as he opened the door and the bell jingled. He mouthed “be right back” and blew Harry a kiss before heading out into the parking lot and climbing into his car. He pulled out of his parking space and headed south.

******

Forty minutes later and he was parked back in front of the store, his front seat piled high with plastic bags. He reached across the console and grabbed the handles, feeling the thin plastic stretch under the weight of his new purchases. He climbed out and headed toward the front door.

He could see Harry through the window helping a customer in the front of the store, so Louis opted to go around the side and use the employee entrance, instead. Didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

He trudged down the hallway and slipped into the small office, dropping the bags heavily to the floor and sighing. 

Time to get to work.

******

He was just finishing up with the final touches when he heard Harry’s voice from over his shoulder.

“I am so sorry, Lou. I’m the only one here and it was just one person after another for a while there, fucking Sam, I should fire her, luckily Nina just showed up for her shift—”

Louis looked up at Harry as he stopped talking and froze in the doorway.

“Holy shit,” he murmured. “Louis, what did you do?”

“Do you hate it?” Louis asked. “You can take anything out that you hate. I won’t be offended.”

He stepped out into the hallway and let Harry slip past him into the small room. It was a little crowded with the two of them smashed in there together.

“Louis.”

He watched as Harry stood peering down at the desk. He reached up and ran his palm across the top.

“What is this?”

“Contact paper,” Louis shrugged. “I saw it on one of those home decorating shows you always watch. Bloody awful show, I hate that annoying woman, but this was cheap and made the desk look a little better, right?”

“I love it.”

Harry stared down at the matte black contact paper that Louis had cut to cover the entire desktop, giving it a much cleaner, more modern look.

“Where did you get this chair?”

“Took a little shopping trip,” Louis answered. “The old one was ripped and smelled… not good. And it had gum stuck to the bottom. Your predecessor had a real thing for chewing gum, by the way.”

Harry ran his fingers over the fuzzy, white pillow that sat perched in the seat of the new, black chair. He dragged his hands across the chrome armrests and tugged back on the seat, watching as it reclined slightly and sprung back.

He was quiet as Harry picked up the three black frames on the desk and examined each photo before setting it down and moving onto the next. Harry and his mum and Gemma in front of a Christmas tree, Harry and Louis sprawled flat on their backs on his bed playing with his new selfie stick, Harry and Zayn and Niall on stage at The Grade 8.

“Stole some of those from your Instagram,” Louis murmured. “Lucky your whole black and white theme goes with the aesthetic I was shooting for here.”

Harry turned to face the far wall and examined the black and white copies of his favorite album covers that Louis had scanned, printed and framed. Fleetwood Mac. The Rolling Stones. John Mayer. More black and white pictures of Harry surrounded by his favorite people hung mixed in among the records.

“How much did all this cost?” 

He turned to face Louis, his eyes sparkling but a small frown etched into his brow. 

“Not that much,” Louis said. “It’s like less than a pound to print a photo, you know. And the frames are cheap, so don’t drop them, they’ll break. The chair might not be that comfortable, it was on clearance, and the orchid—“

He was stopped mid-sentence as Harry stepped forward and pulled him into a hug, smashing Louis’ face into the side of his neck as he kissed his temple.

“It’s perfect,” he said quietly. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I wanted to. I’m proud of you.”

He breathed in deeply and smelled the faint scent of Harry’s shampoo mixed with his cologne. 

“I love the orchid,” Harry sighed. “I love the black and white, but it needs a little color in here.”

“To remind you of me.”

Louis nuzzled his nose into the side of Harry’s neck and placed a quick kiss to the skin.

“It’s fake, though. Not enough light in here for a live one.”

“I know,” Harry smiled. “You’ve become a regular botanist.”

“I learned from the best.”

 

******  
17.4

THE MOVE  
Friday, February 12, 2016

HARRY  
******

“Do you have any big Valentine’s Day plans?” asked Nina. Harry reached up to hand her two records where she stood perched on the stepladder. “Maybe taking Louis to a nice dinner?”

“I’ve got something planned,” Harry smirked.

That he did. His plan had been in the works for nearly a month. It had taken him much longer than he’d expected to find what he was looking for, and then the shipping cost was outrageous if you wanted to get it delivered in under a week, so he’d ordered it three weeks ago and prayed it arrived on time.

He’d gotten the delivery notification earlier this afternoon. Now he just needed to figure out where to hide it until Sunday and how to install it without Louis seeing.

“What is it?”

“Oh, uhh,” Harry racked his brain for a fake Valentine’s Day plan to tell Nina about. Something far less… explicit… than what he actually had in store. “Uhh, dinner, like you said. Fancy dinner.”

“Aw, you guys are so cute,” she smiled, sliding the record into its spot on the shelf and climbing down off the stepladder. “You’re like Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka. Or like Elton John and David Furnish. Or like Ricky Martin and—“

“I get the picture,” Harry smiled, helping her off the ladder. “Thanks.”

Nina was sweet, but she had a tendency to talk. A lot. For hours. And this was coming from someone who lived with Louis Tomlinson, someone who has never shut up for longer than a five minute stretch. Nina talked a lot.

“These are the last two to shelve,” Harry said, handing her two more records and taking off toward his office. “I have to finish up with payroll for the week before we leave.”

“What should I do after that?”

“Help some customers. Straighten up the counter. Organize the CD bin, it should be alphabetical but some kid got into it yesterday and fucked it all up. Bathrooms need cleaning. If you need work, there’s plenty to go around.”

Nina sighed as Harry headed down the hallway, slipping into his office and shutting the door. He flicked on the small lamp on his desk and sat down in the chair, his eyes finding the small, black frame that housed a black and white photo of he and Louis. 

He picked it up and dragged his fingertips over the glass right on top of Louis’ chin. Harry turned the frame over in his hands absentmindedly before going to sit it back in its spot on his desk, but stopped as something in the bottom corner caught his eye. He lifted it to his face and examined the small L surrounded by a poorly drawn heart.

Louis.

His phone buzzed on his desk beside him, breaking his train of thought and snapping him back to reality. He swiped the screen and lifted the phone to his ear.

“Do you have plans tonight?” Liam asked immediately. “Tell me you don’t.”

“Uhh,” Harry checked the small clock on the wall to see that it was after six. He hadn’t heard from Louis, which probably meant that he was working late. “No, don’t think so. Louis is probably going to be at the office ‘til about eight, but I’ll be leaving here in fifteen minutes or so.”

“Want to meet me at Ed’s?”

“Sure, everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Liam sounded strange. “Just do me a favor and don’t tell Zayn. He thinks I’m at my parents’.” 

“Um, okay,” Harry said skeptically. “You sure everything’s okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah it’s cool,” Liam said distractedly. “Could you leave now actually?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so, let me just make sure Nina can close up—“

“Cool. See you there.”

He hung up on Harry.

Harry sat the phone down gently and pursed his lips. Liam had sounded different. Preoccupied.

He was worried. He would have to do payroll over the weekend.

Harry stood from the desk and slid his chair underneath it before opening the door and exiting his office, flicking the light off as he went. He locked the door behind him and headed for the storefront.

******

“What’s going on?” Harry asked. He had hoped that he’d imagined Liam’s agitated state on the phone earlier, but watching him chug his third beer as he flagged Ed down for a fourth had only confirmed Harry’s suspicions. Something was wrong. “Liam, seriously, you’re scaring me.”

“You didn’t tell Zayn you’re here, did you?”

“What? No, you said not to—“

“Ok, good, phew,” Liam breathed a sigh of relief and dropped his elbows to the bar, placing his face in his hands. Harry watched as he rubbed his eyes in distress. “Thanks.”

“Okay seriously, what the fuck is going on?” Harry asked, turning his body fully to face Liam. “Why can’t Zayn know? Are you having problems? Are you breaking up?”

“What?” Liam snapped his head around to look at Harry, his brow creased. “No, no, no, definitely not.”

Harry relaxed a little.

“Alright, good,” he said. “So, what is it then?”

He watched as Liam sighed and scanned the bar, eyes darting around in search of something or someone, maybe. He looked back to Harry and slipped his hand into his front pocket, pulling out a small, black box.

“What the fuck,” Harry said.

“I know.”

“Is that—“

“Yeah.”

Harry stared down at the small box in Liam’s hand. 

“Holy shit,” he said.

“I know,” Liam repeated. He flipped the top of the box open to expose a small, silver band. “I’m asking him on Sunday.”

“Oh my God,” Harry said, finally understanding what the expression ‘at a loss for words’ meant. “He’s going to flip.”

“I know,” Liam said. “I mean, I hope he says yes. I think he will, right? You think he will?”

“You bought a ring and you’re not even sure he’s going to say yes?” Harry stared at Liam unblinkingly. “That’s bold.”

“I think he’ll say yes. We haven’t, like, really discussed it, but we’ve kind of discussed it. And we’re living together now. You think he’ll say yes, right? Or no? Are you saying that you think that he’s going to say no? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Calm down, mate,” Harry smiled and shook his head. “I think he’ll say yes.”

Liam breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Good,” he said. “I think so, too.”

Harry looked at Liam and saw his brow etched with concern and stress. He leaned forward and pulled him into a tight hug, nearly knocking the ring out of his hands and onto the disgusting pub floor.

“What the fuck am I doing? Congratulations, man,” he laughed, causing Liam to burst out laughing, too. “Fucking hell, this is amazing! Have you told Louis? I can’t believe he didn’t tell me—“

“No, and you can’t tell him either,” Liam said as he pulled away from Harry and wiped his eyes. Harry pretended not to see. “He’s the fucking worst at keeping secrets. Seriously.”

Liam had a point. Louis was one of the biggest gossips he’d ever met, though he’d never own up to it.

“You only have to keep it a secret ‘til Sunday,” Liam said. “I just don’t want him to blow it when we’re out tomorrow night. You can tell him first thing Sunday morning.”

“How are you going to do it?” Harry asked. “Do you have a plan?”

“Of course,” Liam slipped the small, black box back into his pocket and took another sip of beer. “You know how he’s been helping me paint those sets for that play on Sunday?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, raising an eyebrow. “He mentioned something about painting the alphabet.”

“It’s fake,” Liam grinned. “It’s all a set up. I had him paint a bunch of big letters and told him we’d be using them for a show on Sunday, but when we show up, they’re just going to be arranged on stage asking him to marry me. I’ll have the stage lights dimmed and some nice music playing. There’s no show. It’s all for him.”

“That’s…” Harry picked up his beer and took a sip, thinking about how much thought and time and effort Liam had put into it. “That’s so special. He’s going to love it.”

“I hope so,” Liam smiled. “Really hope he doesn’t say no.” 

“He wont’ say no,” Harry assured him. “He’s going to be so suprised.”

“Thanks,” Liam said. Harry watched as he swirled the beer around in his glass. “A lot’s changed since this time last year, right? Crazy to think about.”

“I know,” Harry smiled. “Everything has changed.”

He raised his glass up and Liam smiled, lifting his own and clanking it against Harry’s.

“Congratulations,” Harry said. “Zayn’s lucky to have you.”

He saw Liam blush as he took a sip. 

He was a good egg.

 

******  
17.5

THE MOVE  
Sunday, February 14, 2016

LOUIS  
******

Louis dragged his feet slowly up the stairs of the building toward their flat, each footstep plodding heavier than the one before, his body and mind tired after his long, shitty day. His mind wandered wistfully back to a simpler time when his only responsibilities around the office were picking up coffee and beating his high score in Solitaire. 

Now look at him. Working a twelve-hour day on a Sunday. Maybe things were better, back then.

Oh, nostalgia, you liar.

He had been enjoying his new job and had definitely been enjoying his new salary, but the late nights and overtime hours were beginning to wear on him. Especially having to work until eight on fucking Valentine’s day. On a fucking Sunday, no less.

He felt guilty for fucking up their first Valentine’s Day together, even if Harry had said that he understood. Louis had wanted to see him. Had wanted to treat him. 

He sighed and inserted his key into the lock, turning and pushing the door open into their flat. He lifted his head as he walked forward into the living room, stopping dead in his tracks as his eyes adjusted to the scene in front of him. Their flat was on fire.

“What the—“

No, not on fire, but full of candles. Lots of candles. Twenty, thirty, forty candles? Too many candles for the indoors. He scanned the room in confusion before his eyes settled on a figure sprawled seductively on the couch, long limbs stretched out as he lay on his side, candlelight dancing off of his pale skin where one leg was hiked up toward his chest. 

Louis watched as he dragged his hand slowly up the outside of his thigh toward his arse before smacking it. 

“Harry?” Louis was nearly speechless as he took in the scene in front of him. “What are you doing?”

Harry grinned at him devilishly as he let his palm roam over his skin. He was wearing what looked to be a pair of black, spandex shorts and nothing else. Louis watched as he raised his arm and pointed the remote gripped firmly in his hand toward the stereo across the room. 

“Oh my God,” Louis clapped one hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter as he heard the distinct opening beats to ‘Pony’ by Ginuwine echoing through the flat. “Oh my God.”

He cackled as he watched Harry stand from the couch and place the remote gently on the coffee table in front of him. His breath caught in his throat as he took Harry in, his eyes registering just how short the black shorts were. 

“Oh my God. Where did you even get those?”

Harry grinned and walked toward Louis, the short, tight shorts digging into his soft hips and doing very little to hide his already hard cock pressing against the front. He looked ridiculous and sexy and hilarious and sexy and Louis wasn’t sure if he wanted to tackle him to the floor and fuck him or take a picture of him and blackmail him with it forever. 

Maybe he could do both.

“Oh my God,” he repeated for what felt like the millionth time, his brain apparently unable to string together any other combination of words. 

“You like?” Harry smiled mischievously as he stood in front of Louis and batted his eyes. 

“I like,” Louis’ voice was low as he watched Harry twirl, his little cheeks poking out from the bottom of the shorts. “Those are the smallest shorts I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s because they are not shorts.”

Louis quirked an eyebrow up at Harry.

“Technically, they are the bottoms to a women’s swimsuit,” Harry smiled. He extended one hand outward toward Louis’ and laced their fingers together, pulling him backward toward the couch. “Come.”

Louis helplessly allowed himself to be led by Harry, his eyes darting between his bulge and his thighs and his abs and his chest and his arms and his face. It was all too much. Too fucking much for one person to handle. 

Ginuwine crooned about riding his pony in the background but Louis’ brain barely registered the music. He watched Harry reach up and push on his shoulders, allowing his body to sink back into the cushions as Harry towered over him. A glint of something metal caught his eye.

“What the fuck is that?” Louis choked out.

He pointed to the corner of the living room at a metal pole extended floor to ceiling directly in front of the broken window.

“Oh, uhh,” Harry looked over sheepishly and ran one hand through his hair before meeting Louis’ eyes. “I, uhh, I got us a stripper pole. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Louis’ mouth fell open. He was unable to form sentences as his eyes darted frantically between the pole and Harry and the pole and Harry and back again. He was ninety-nine percent sure that his brain was short-circuiting. 

He was going to fucking die. This was it. This was how he died. Harry was going to kill him with sex.

He was alright with that.

“Oh my God,” he managed to say. “Is that… permanent?”

Harry laughed and stepped forward, placing one knee on the cushion beside each of Louis’ thighs and straddling his crotch where he sat on the couch. Louis panted as he felt Harry’s hand in the back of his hair, tugging forcefully to tilt his head back and expose the column of his throat. 

He ground his ass down onto Louis’ crotch and bit into the flesh at the nape of his neck, his teeth stinging as they sunk in before he lathed his tongue over the sore spot.

“Not permanent,” he grumbled against Louis’ skin. “Can take it down. Can move it to the bedroom if you want.”

Louis moaned and grabbed Harry’s arse, pushing and pulling and bucking his hips up into him as he moved. His dick was hard and throbbing in his pants, the stress of the day totally forgotten as Harry moved on top of him.

“Careful,” Harry gasped. 

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Harry murmured as he licked and sucked at Louis’ neck. “I’m just… I’ve got another surprise for you. For later.”

Louis wanted to ask more questions but was distracted as he felt Harry reach down and grab his dick through his pants, kneading and rubbing as he whimpered against his ear.

“Will you dance for me?” Louis panted, smiling as Harry’s curls tickled the side of his face.

“Obviously,” Harry grinned against his ear. He licked and bit at the lobe as his fingers worked to unbutton Louis’ pants. “Why do you think I bought it? Just to look at it? I even made a playlist.”

“Oh, should I look forward to more Ginuwine?” Louis snickered as he relaxed and let Harry unzip his pants, lifting his arse off the cushion to allow him to tug them down his thighs. 

“I don’t think there’s anymore Ginuwine.”

Louis moaned as Harry’s lips dragged from his ear across his cheek and to the corner of his mouth. He turned his head and closed the space between them, pulling Harry into a deep, slow, purposeful kiss. He felt his hands pulling his cock free, precome already leaking from the tip as Harry lazily stroked it. 

“Lots of Beyonce, though.”

Louis groaned against Harry’s mouth as he felt him pull away, lifting his body off Louis’ and standing upright in front of him. He was breathing heavily as he palmed at his own dick through the spandex, his pupils huge and his eyes dark as he walked backward toward the pole, never breaking their gaze. 

Louis reached down and wrapped his hand around his cock, picking up where Harry left off and stroking the shaft steadily. He watched as Harry walked around the pole, surveying the situation thoughtfully. 

“I really hope this holds,” Harry said. He reached down and pressed a button on the stereo to skip to the next song, prompting the opening lines of Beyonce’s ‘Drunk in Love.’ “I had Zayn help me install it.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“No, it was a two-person job and I needed help, but he’s not exactly handy—“

“Then why did you ask him?”

“Well I couldn’t exactly call Liam, could I?”

Louis nodded in agreement. Better Zayn knows than Liam. Although, if Zayn knows, Liam probably knows, too, anyway. Whatever, he didn’t even really care. Harry was about to pole dance for him.

He watched Harry grip the pole with both hands and cast a seductive look in his direction. Louis grunted and shifted in his seat, picking up speed as he stroked his dick. Harry swung himself around so that his back was facing Louis, reaching down and tugging at the hemline of his shorts before letting them snap back audibly against his skin.

“Oh God,” Louis panted. “Fuck, you’re ridiculous.”

Harry smirked over his shoulder before popping his arse out and wrapping one leg around the pole, dipping himself almost to the floor and snapping his back as he stood back up straight. Beyonce sang about fucking all night in a kitchen in the background.

“You want to see the rest of your surprise?” Harry asked sweetly.

“Yes, fuck yes.”

He watched as Harry bent over forward and slipped both thumbs under the tight waistband of his shorts, tugging them down slowly over his cheeks. Louis gasped.

“Jesus Mary and Joseph, is that what I think it is?”

“Mm hmm,” Harry murmured as the shorts dropped to the floor. He straightened up and slipped his toe beneath them, kicking them out of the way. “I’m all ready for you.”

Louis panted and stroked frantically as he looked at where the end of the plug sat exposed between Harry’s cheeks, registering what it means as his cock throbbed in his hand. Harry had been here, alone, waiting for him, fingering himself open, prepping himself for Louis, in this very flat, maybe on their bed, or maybe on this very couch—

“Oh my God,” Louis moaned. “Fuck, are you serious, oh my God—“

“Serious as a heart attack.”

Louis watched as Harry slung one leg around the pole and hooked his ankle around it, throwing his head back and suspending himself on the pole. 

“Uhh, Haz—“

Louis watched as the pole gave way and went crashing to the floor with Harry attached to it. He lay sprawled on his back on the hardwoods with the pole lying next to him, rubbing his arse and laughing like a hyena.

“Oh my God,” Louis cackled as he stood from the couch, his dick hard and exposed as he made his way over to Harry. “Are you alright?”

“Fuck, I knew I should’ve just asked Liam to help,” Harry panted through his laughter. “Jesus, I fell right on the buttplug—“

Louis extended both hands down and helped Harry to his feet. The two men wiped tears of laughter from their eyes as they stood naked in the middle of the room, staring down at the toppled pole lying in the floor. It seemed to have taken a bit of sheetrock from the ceiling with it when it fell. One more thing to replace.

“Come on, Haz, let’s go to the bedroom.”

Harry stopped laughing and looked up to meet Louis’ eyes, smirking playfully as he reached down to stroke his cock where it dangled between his legs.

Louis shrieked as Harry reached down and gripped his arse, picking him up and carrying him backward toward their room. Louis clung to his neck and kissed his jaw and mouth, feeling Harry’s fingernails digging into the skin of his cheeks where he supported his weight.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” Louis murmured as he bit at Harry’s earlobe. “Your back—“

“Has never felt better,” Harry interrupted. “Stop complaining, I want you to fuck me.”

Louis laughed as Harry tossed him backward onto their bed. He stared up at him as he dropped his hand to his crotch and began wanking lazily, waiting for Harry. 

“I love you,” Harry whispered. 

He placed one knee to either side of Louis’ thighs and dropped his elbows to the mattress beside his head. 

“I love you too,” Louis said quietly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

He leaned up and kissed Harry deeply, running his hands through his curls and pulling hard. Harry moaned into his mouth as Louis bit at his bottom lip and shivered. 

“Love you so, so much,” he whispered. “You’re my favorite everything. Favorite person, favorite place, favorite feeling, favorite everything.”

He rolled Harry over onto his back and climbed to his knees, gesturing for him to flip onto his stomach beneath him. Harry was breathing heavily and nodded.

Louis stared down at his arse where the end of the plug lay exposed between his cheeks. He dragged his fingernails along the skin and dug his fingertips into the flesh, pulling them apart and bringing them back together, massaging and kneading as Harry squirmed beneath him. 

“May I?” Louis asked. He pushed gently on the plug and heard Harry moan into the quilt beneath him. 

“Please,” he breathed.

“How long have you been wearing this?”

“Two hours,” Harry moaned. “I’ve been dying.”

Two hours. Two hours. Louis thought about Harry squirming around on the sofa waiting for him to get home, feeling the fullness in his arse and the desperate throbbing of his cock for two hours. Two fucking hours.

He leaned forward and bit at the skin beside the plug, pressing his fingertips to the flat surface and pushing rhythmically. Harry whimpered and squirmed on the bed, his fingers twisting into the quilt as he pleaded with Louis to fuck him. Louis bit at his cheeks and continued massaging the plug, sending Harry further into a frenzy as the moments wore on.

“Louis please I’m close please Lou—“

His cock throbbed and ached between his legs as he neglected it to fuck Harry gently with the plug, grabbing the base and moving it around to rub against his prostate. He was close, too, but he forced himself to stay focused on Harry.

“I’m there Louis I’m there please please—“

He pulled back on the plug and slid it out of Harry as he cried out, dropping it to the floor beside the bed and climbing up on top of his body to line up behind him. He was already open and loose and slick, but Louis drizzled a bit of lube on his cock just in case. He was scared to even touch it, so close to the edge already, but he reached down and gently spread it around the head before pushing easily into Harry.

He gasped and stopped moving as Harry sobbed beneath him, not concerned with hurting him as he was already completely prepped and ready but genuinely concerned with coming the second he started moving. He breathed deeply and willed himself to back off the edge before pulling out and thrusting forward again, moaning and biting down on his lip to try to stave off his orgasm.

“More Louis more I’m so close fuck me fuck me please—“

Fuck it. He pulled back and slammed into Harry over and over, sending himself over the edge on the second thrust and not caring at all. He came hard as he reached around and grabbed Harry’s cock, feeling it shoot its load all over his palm the second he made contact. Harry babbled beneath him as his hips continued to fuck into him, his exhausted dick finally finding relief as he came for what felt like hours.

He dropped his lips to Harry’s back and kissed gently. Harry was still whimpering and whining beneath him as Louis dragged his tongue over the salty-sweat covered skin. He loved how Harry tasted. 

“Love you, love you,” he murmured against Harry’s back and hips as he pulled out of him, his cock messy with come and lube and thoroughly satisfied. “God, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Harry rasped out. He reached back and searched blindly for Louis’ hand. Louis reached out and took Harry’s fingers, lacing them between his own and kissing his palm and knuckles before falling to the bed beside him. “So much, Louis.”

“Will you be my valentine?” Louis asked.

“Already am.”

******

Louis stepped out of the shower and wrapped his towel around his waist, steam rising from his skin as he padded down the hallway toward their bedroom. He found Harry sitting cross-legged on the bed waiting for him.

“I’ve got something to tell you,” he grinned.

Louis quirked an eyebrow up suspiciously. 

“That sounds bad,” he said. “Normally that’s how you inform me that you’ve signed us up for another horrible introductory class at the gym. I told you, I’m not going back to that Zumba class—“

“Liam’s proposing,” Harry blurted out.

Louis stopped talking and stared at Harry. Surely he’d misheard him.

“What?”

“Liam is proposing,” Harry repeated. “To Zayn. Tonight.”

“How do you know?”

“He told me. On Friday.”

Louis frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. His best friend of over a decade told his boyfriend that he was proposing before he informed him. Granted, his boyfriend was technically his best friend’s brother, but fuck all that. He should have been told first.

“Why did he tell you before he told me?” Louis asked angrily. “What kind of disrespect—“

“You’re awful at keeping secrets,” Harry said. “Don’t deny it. There was no way you could have kept your cool last night if you’d known.”

Louis pouted. It was true, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Well why didn’t you tell me this morning.”

“You left before I was awake,” Harry said. “I’m telling you now.”

“I’m texting him,” Louis said as he reached for his phone. “That absolute prick—“

Harry reached across and snatched his phone before Louis could scoop it up.

“Give me my phone!”

“So you can text him and possibly blow it? I don’t think so. This is exactly why he didn’t tell you.” 

He watched Harry slip the phone into the front pocket of his joggers. Louis scowled and crossed his arms again, angrily staring at Harry.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, climbing to his knees on the mattress and walking toward the edge of the bed. “Come here, please, don’t be angry.”

Louis grudgingly walked forward, stopping just outside Harry’s reach.

“Don’t be mad at me,” Harry said gently. “Or Liam. He only gets one shot at this. I know he wanted to tell you, but he was worried you’d ruin it, and that’s a valid concern. You’re an awful secret-keeper. He only told me cause he needed someone to tell him that Zayn wasn’t going to say no.”

Louis rolled his eyes and stayed silent, avoiding Harry’s gaze.

“Lou, please, come here.”

Louis sighed and walked forward another step, allowing him to be pulled into Harry’s hug by the waist. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and tucked his chin over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Harry murmured. “He said he’d call as soon as it’s done, which should be any minute now—“

Louis pulled back as he heard and felt vibrating in Harry’s pants. One of their phones was ringing. Liam was calling. Who was he calling?

Harry looked up at him apprehensively as he reached down and pulled out the phone.

Louis’.

“Ha-ha!” Louis yelled, raising his arms above his head. “He told you first but he called me first, so, eat this arse, Styles.”

“Are you going to answer it or no?” Harry rolled his eyes and smiled. “Go on, then, pick it up.”

Louis grinned and swiped the screen to answer Liam’s call. He put him on speaker.

“Liam? Mate? You there?”

“Louis! Hey! I’ve got Zayn here, too.”

“Does that mean it went well?” Harry asked, grinning into the phone. He reached up and pulled Louis down onto his lap. “Don’t keep us waiting!”

“He said yes,” Liam said, his smile evident through the phone. “He even cried.”

“I did not cry,” Zayn argued. “I got something in my eye.”

“I can’t believe you told Harry before you told me,” Louis said angrily. “Don’t think I’m going to forget that any time soon, Payno.”

“Sorry, you’re just too high risk with information like that,” he said. “But listen, I wanted to ask you, would you be my best man?”

Louis looked up at Harry to see him smiling wide at him, digging his fingertips into Louis’ waist and kissing his cheek.

“Obviously,” Louis grinned. “And I’ll enjoy it even more knowing I beat out Harry for at least one important job, here.”

“Actually,” Zayn cut in, “I was kind of hoping that Harry would be my best man. I’m going to have two, actually, you and Niall. If you’re in.”

Harry beamed and nuzzled into Louis’ neck. 

“Of course I will,” Harry said. “Definitely. Thank you.”

“Alright, well, we’re going to go have sex now,” Zayn said. “Ouch! Jesus, that hurt—“

The two men could hear Liam arguing embarrassedly in the background, whacking Zayn for over-sharing. 

“Liam would like me to clarify that we are definitely not about to have sex,” he mumbled. “Anyway, we’re going to go… do something else.”

“Love you guys,” Harry said. “Congratulations.”

“Yeah, congrats,” Louis grinned. “Happy for you both.”

They heard Liam start giggling loudly before the line promptly went dead.

“Wow,” Louis said, tucking himself into Harry’s chest as he sat curled on his lap on the bed. “Liam getting married. Wild.”

“Zayn getting married. Wild.”

The two men looked at each other. Louis smiled softly before leaning in to kiss him, their lips moving together sweetly as they breathed into each others mouths, saying nothing.

“I love you,” Louis said.

“I love you, too.”

That was good enough for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment but remember, be nice to nice.


	18. The Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis gets to check an item off the bucket list. Harry gets some new reading material.
> 
> They both look ahead to the future.

*******  
18.1

THE SEA  
Wednesday, June 17, 2016

HARRY  
******

“Do you want to come to this class with me?” 

Harry prodded Louis’ calf with his big toe where it lay stretched out underneath the bed sheet. Louis stirred beside him, letting out a muffled, unenthused groan into his pillow.

“What class?” Louis asked, his voice skeptical.

“Pure Barre.”

“Sounds horrible. What is it?”

“Hard to explain,” Harry grinned. 

It wasn’t actually that hard to explain, but he knew that if he told Louis that it was a workout based on ballet, there would be no chance of convincing him to go. 

“It’s a bit like Pilates, in some ways. It’s a great workout. Good for the glutes.” 

He reached his arm out and smacked Louis’ arse.

“I could do for a workout,” Louis grumbled. “Been feeling a bit sluggish lately. You feed me too much.”

“You eat too much,” Harry rolled over and placed a quick kiss to Louis’ shoulder blade. “Eat less and I’ll cook less. Basic laws of supply and demand.”

Harry swung both feet out from under the covers and sat up, stretching his arms over his head and wincing as his back cracked. They really needed a new mattress. Maybe a one of those fancy ones where you can adjust the firmness on either side. 

Yeah, right. Maybe when they made it rich one day.

“Come on then, class starts in twenty,” Harry chided as he stood beside the bed and pulled a pair of joggers over his hips. He reached down and tugged on Louis’ ankle where it stuck out from under the quilt. “Let’s go.”

“Fine.” 

He watched as Louis rolled over and stretched his body, his arms and legs pointed straight out against the mattress like a starfish. The sheet lay draped across the bottom of his ribcage as his hair lay messily against his forehead, shooting off in every direction. 

He was always so beautiful in the mornings.

“Stop that,” Harry snapped.

“Stop what? I didn’t do anything—”

“Stop making me want to get back into bed.”

Harry watched as Louis grinned mischievously and pushed himself into an upright position.

“At least toss me a pair of pants,” he said, pointing to the floor by Harry’s feet. “Common decency and all.”

“You’ve never been worried about that before,” Harry smirked. He reached into the top drawer of his dresser and pulled out a pair of pants, throwing them at Louis’ head. “These are clean. Stop wearing dirty clothes off of the floor.”

“Clothes are fine to wear two or three times,” Louis grunted as he pulled the pants on and stood from the bed. “Washing them after one wear is a waste of water.”

Harry chuckled as he grabbed his gym bag and walked into the hallway, making a quick pit stop by the toilet on his way to the kitchen. He tossed his bag onto the table before heading toward the sink to fill up a couple of clear, plastic bottles with water from the tap. He twisted the caps on tightly and turned to place them into his bag, frowning as he looked down at the canvas tote lying on the tabletop. 

Thoughts of all of the dirty, sweat-covered surfaces that the bottom of that bag had touched over the years crept into the front of his brain. And now it was lying on their kitchen table. Where they eat. Lovely.

Harry walked over and tossed the bag onto the floor, placing the water bottles inside gently before heading back toward the sink for some towels and cleaner. He spent the next few moments spraying and wiping the surface, the muffled sounds of Louis brushing his teeth and humming from the bath. 

Harry turned to toss the used paper towels into the bin, smiling to himself as he heard the water cut off. He stood by the kitchen window and ran his fingertips through his tangled curls, gathering the ringlets at the crown of his head and attempting to tie them up into a bun.

“Let me.” 

Harry heard Louis’ voice from over his shoulder. He smiled and dropped his hands to his sides, rolling his head back to give Louis better access. 

“Give me the thingy.”

Harry slipped the hair tie off his wrist and placed it into Louis’ waiting palm where it lay draped over his left shoulder. He sighed as he felt Louis’ fingers in his curls, combing the hair back and gathering it into the small piece of elastic.

“Thank you,” he smiled up at the ceiling as Louis pulled and tightened the bun against the back of his head. “You’re getting pretty good at that.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Louis grinned. 

“I think my hair is greasy.”

“It’s very greasy.” 

“No use washing it before a workout,” Harry shrugged, turning to face Louis and watching as he wiped his hands dramatically on his joggers. “Alright, stop being ridiculous. It’s not that greasy.”

“Mine’s not much better, if I’m being honest,” Louis leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Harry’s lips. “Getting a bit long, too.”

“I like it like this.” 

Harry grinned and reached up, grabbing a fistful of Louis’ hair and tugging playfully. It was getting long.

“Do you need a headband?”

“Please.”

Harry walked toward where his gym bag sat collapsed on the floor. He reached down and rummaged around for one of the headbands he knew was lying somewhere in the bottom, pulling out a baby blue one and tossing it gently toward Louis.

“Better get going,” Harry said as he rose to his feet, pulling on one of the white tank tops from inside the bag. “I’ll drive.”

“Seeing as you’re forcing me to work out on a weekday, I would hope so.”

******

“We—are—breaking—up,” Louis huffed out angrily underneath his breath. 

Harry tried to stifle his laughter as he looked over his shoulder to where Louis stood with one very bent leg teetering precariously on the bar in front of him, wobbling as he tried to keep his balance.

“Try to keep that leg straight for maximum effect,” the instructor said as she passed, pressing down on Louis’ knee in an attempt to make the muscles cooperate. He nearly toppled over. “Straight. Straighter than that, sir. Straight.”

“Listen, this leg right now is the straightest thing about me,” Louis grumbled. “It doesn’t get straighter than this.”

Harry cracked up and clung to the bar in front of him, keeping his leg extended in a perfect line while doing squats with his other. His glutes were on fire.

“Alright, time to cool down,” the instructor called out.

“Thank Christ,” Louis hobbled backward and let his leg fall from the bar onto the floor. Harry watched as he rubbed his hamstring and winced. “I’d be fine to skip cool down, actually. I’m cool enough.”

“You need to stretch,” Harry led Louis back toward the spot where their yoga mats lay sprawled on the ground. “It’s just laying here and stretching. You can do it.”

“Fine.”

Harry plopped down heavily and reached forward toward his ankles, feeling his back muscles burn in the stretch.

“Alright,” the instructor sat at the front of the room and demonstrated what they were supposed to be mirroring, “roll up the small towel at your station and wrap it around the bottom of your shoe. Lie flat on your back with your free leg extended on the floor and bring the foot with the towel directly above your head—“

Harry looked over to see Louis rolling back and forth on the mat, attempting to pull his foot upward above his head.

“My leg is shaking,” he hissed. “It’s not going to go straight.”

“Just keep it a little bent and try to stretch,” Harry muttered. “Or maybe just lay there in the fetal position until we’re done.”

“Deal.”

He watched Louis toss the towel onto the floor beside him and drop both legs to the mat before turning over onto his side. He propped one hand under his chin and watched Harry as he stretched.

“Like what you see?” Harry smirked.

“You know it.”

Harry rolled over and turned his arse toward Louis, doing a series of mini crunches and flexing his glutes.

“Jesus,” he heard Louis breathe. “Your back.”

Harry smiled and sighed as he dropped his head to the mat and rolled onto his back. He brought his right knee to his chest and pushed it across his body to his left side, feeling his hamstring stretch beautifully. He smiled at Louis.

“So are you going to start packing tonight or no?”

“You haven’t even told me where we’re going,” Louis grumbled. “How am I supposed to know what to pack?”

“What if I leave you a list on the counter?” Harry suggested. “I won’t be home until eight o’clock, so that should give you plenty of time to pack after work.”

“That’s a start, at least,” Louis sighed. “I’ll start packing after work.”

“That’s really the only time you’ve got since tomorrow is spoken for. We need to leave early on Friday.”

“Just tell me where we’re going,” Louis whined. “The suspense is killing me.”

“I told you,” Harry grinned. “It’s a surprise.”

******

“I can’t believe they picked a church,” Louis grumbled. 

Harry chuckled and pressed a kiss into the top of his hair, twirling his fingertips in the long strands at the base of his neck as Louis’ cheek lay smashed against his chest. He’d had a long day at work and had come home to find Louis sitting in the middle of their bedroom floor with his clothes scattered around him, looking very flustered and very frustrated. 

Harry had smiled at him silently and plopped down on the floor across from where he sat cross-legged, rubbing his knees and helping him fold clothes to stuff into his bag. 

Laying in their bed in the dark with both of their bags mostly packed, he felt happy. Content.

“Neither one of them are even religious,” Louis said angrily.

“Liam said that his parents are.”

“Yeah, well, they’re not the ones getting married.”

Louis groaned tucked his nose into Harry’s neck. 

“I don’t like churches. They’re stuffy.”

“I think they’re beautiful,” Harry murmured. 

He let his hand wander down Louis’ spine, his fingertips dragging against the soft skin between his shoulder blades. He felt small chill bumps rise beneath his thumb as it moved.

“Do you have your speech prepared?”

Louis sighed and shook his head dejectedly. 

“I don’t know whether to say something sweet and touching, or go for funny and lighthearted,” he grumbled. “I fucking hate speeches.”

“I’m sure it’s going to be great either way,” Harry said soothingly. “I would just say, don’t try too hard. If you try to be something you’re not then it’s going to come across as cheesy.”

“Are you saying I can’t be sweet and touching?” 

Louis raised his head off of Harry’s chest and glanced up to meet his eyes, cocking one eyebrow skeptically.

“That is not what I’m saying,” Harry laughed. “You can be very sweet and touching. But this is a speech for Liam. I would do whatever feels right.”

He felt Louis sigh and drop his cheek back against his skin. Harry resumed playing with the back of his hair as they lay quietly in the darkness for a moment.

“You can practice on me, you know,” he grinned. “You’ve still got a week to make it perfect.”

“Can’t believe it’s next Saturday,” Louis murmured. “There’s so much to do. We still haven’t bought their gift and we have to get fitted for our tuxes and Karen asked me to go help her pick out photos for some scrapbook she’s making Liam as a wedding gift and you’re supposed to be bringing the rings on Saturday—“

“I think I can handle bringing the rings,” Harry chuckled. “Relax. We’re taking care of the gift and the tuxes tomorrow. Worry about the rest of it when we get back on Monday. Next weekend is for them, this weekend is for us.”

He felt Louis’ lips turn up into a grin against his skin before placing a quick kiss to his exposed nipple. It tickled.

“Just tell me where we’re going,” Louis whined. “A ski parka? A pair of waterproof sandals? “My warmest beanie, something mesh, my smallest swim trunks? What kind of packing list was that?” 

“I told you, it’s a surprise!” Harry argued for the millionth time. “The element of surprise will make it even better when we arrive. Trust me, alright?”

Louis’ eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled soft and sweet up at Harry, placing a sweet kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Trust you,” Louis said quietly, his hands absentmindedly tracing the skin around Harry’s nipple, “do you remember when we first got together? And you surprised me with our first date, and I ended up nearly setting a building on fire and severely injuring myself all within twenty four hours?”

Harry cackled, causing Louis’ head to bounce up and down on his chest as he thought back to their first date. Louis endlessly frustrated at the cooking class, covered in flour and flushed from the oven. Coated with sweat and dirt after wiping out on the hiking trail. Their first kiss. 

“I love you,” Harry murmured, tugging gently on Louis’ fingertips. “But I’m not telling. It’s going to be a surprise and you are going to love it.”

“Are we going to have sex there?”

“We are going to have sex a lot there,” Harry grinned. “But now, we need to sleep. We’ve got a big day tomorrow and then we’re leaving at six on Friday morning.”

“Six?” Louis groaned. “But that’s so early.”

“You can sleep the whole way there. Not like you need permission to do that, you would do it anyway—“

“I’ve only done that a few times.”

“You have done that literally every time we’ve gone anywhere longer than an hour away,” Harry argued. “It’s alright though. I like watching you sleep.”

“You’re so creepy,” Louis teased, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. 

Harry grinned and sighed, watching as Louis peeled himself off of Harry’s chest and rose from the bed to scuttle down the hallway toward the toilet. 

Two more days.

 

 

******  
18.2

THE SEA  
Thursday, June 18, 2016

LOUIS  
******

“What’s the point of a registry, anyway?” Louis asked as he thumbed through page after page of pointless items. “Sort of takes the fun out of getting gifts, no?”

“I guess at least you know that you’ll like what you’re getting.”

Harry peeked over Louis’ shoulder and glanced down at the list, scanning the items for something in their price range.

“Honestly, what kind of waffle maker costs three-hundred pounds?” Harry asked. 

“Liam doesn’t even like waffles.”

“Zayn doesn’t even cook.”

Harry laughed and reached around Louis’ arm to take the list for himself, flipping to the next page in search of something marked under twenty.

“I feel like the best men shouldn’t need to get them gifts,” Louis grumbled.

Harry looked up to see him running his delicate hand across a soft-looking towel folded amongst the many bathroom items organized on the crowded shelves. Louis leaned forward and sniffed a yellow bar of soap, wincing and scrunching his nose in disgust as he backed away quickly.

“That smells awful,” he grimaced. “Like… mustard gone bad. Holy shit, it’s sixteen pounds? For a fucking bar of soap? They do realize that this is going to touch my arsehole, right?”

He glanced up to see the woman behind the register scowling in Louis’ direction.

“Good soap is worth the money,” Harry argued, silently mouthing the words ‘I’m sorry’ at her while nodding in Louis’ direction. “You shouldn’t put a bunch of toxins on your skin.”

“Waste of money if you ask me. Overpriced and unnecessary.”

Harry flipped the page and scanned the next row of items, hoping to find something cheap and still available so that they could leave before Louis insulted the employee any further. His eyes landed on a bamboo dish rack.

“Come on, let’s go to the kitchen stuff,” he said, tugging at the hemline of Louis’ shirt. “I think I found something.”

Harry felt Louis link their fingers together as they walked to the opposite side of the store to where two rows of shelves sat packed with kitchen goods. They perused the items in comfortable silence, with Louis stopping every few feet to pick up one of the many expensive utensils and turn it over in his hands with a confused look on his face.

“Oh my God,” Harry said, staring down to where Louis held a small, yellow tool in his grip. “Is that a banana slicer?”

“A banana slicer?” 

Louis frowned down and squeezed the handle. 

“Wouldn’t that just be… you know, a knife?”

“No, this thing cuts six slices at once,” Harry took the gadget from Louis and dropped it into the small shopping basket hanging from the crook of his elbow. “This is coming home with us.”

“I really don’t think you need any more kitchen utensils.”

“And I really don’t think you need any more Adidas jumpers, but I’ve never stopped you from buying them.”

Louis stuck his tongue out as Harry chuckled and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the side of his temple before pulling back and resuming their search.

“Here we go,” he said as he picked up the bamboo dish rack. “Perfect.”

“Alright, can we go then?” Louis asked, tugging Harry in the direction of the register. “This store is boring and we have to be at our fitting in half an hour.”

Harry shook his head fondly and followed Louis toward the register. He smiled awkwardly and apologetically at the woman scanning their items as Louis rifled wildly through a basket of trinkets perched on the counter, completely destroying any semblance of organization they might have had.

He thanked the cashier for her help and reached out for the bag, dragging Louis away from the mess and toward the exit. Harry reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone as they walked down the deserted sidewalk toward Louis’ car, typing a quick text to Liam to let him know that they were on their way.

“Liam says that Zayn’s late anyway,” Harry said as he climbed into the passenger seat, “so no rush.”

“Zayn would be late to his own funeral,” Louis laughed. He started the engine and pulled out onto the street heading in the direction of the formalwear store. “Well, let’s go get fitted for some suits, then.”

*******

“Do you think I need to go up a size?” Harry murmured. 

Louis tilted his head up and peeked at Harry from under his heavy eyelids. He was nearly asleep.

“I think it looked fine,” he yawned. He stretched his toes toward the bottom of the bed and hiked one leg up over Harry’s knee, feeling the cool bed sheets brush against his skin. “Did it feel too tight?”

“I felt like I looked like I belonged in The Godfather.”

“You didn’t.”

“Are you sure?” Harry smiled. “It felt a little… mob-ish. Like all I needed was a big gun and a pile of cash and I’d look exactly like Al Pacino. And a few sexy ladies on each arm.”

“I think you’re thinking of Bond, not The Godfather,” Louis said fondly. “You would make a hot Bond, actually.”

He felt Harry chuckle and run his thumb down his spine between his shoulder blades.

“Can I be your Bond girl?” Louis asked.

“Obviously.”

“I like Liam and Zayn’s tuxedos,” he said. “Never seen Liam look so fancy.”

“I know. Zayn looked hilarious,” Harry chuckled. “I’ve never even seen him in a suit, I don’t think. Except for his grandmother’s funeral.” 

Louis sighed and pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s chest. Their bedroom was dark and their bags were packed and waiting patiently beside the door, all set for their early wake up and departure.

“Please tell me where we’re going,” Louis begged for the millionth time. “Please?”

“You’ll find out in—“ Harry turned his head to peek at the small, blue screen of the alarm clock beside them, “—six hours. Go to sleep.”

“Too excited to sleep,” Louis grumbled. “Like Christmas morning.”

He felt Harry press a kiss into the mess of hair at the top of his head before dislodging his arm from under Louis’ neck and rolling over. He tucked his arse into Louis’ crotch and sighed.

“Goodnight, love,” he whispered. “See you bright and early.”

Louis smiled and wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist. 

“Goodnight, Haz.”

 

******  
Friday, June 19, 2016  
******

“Lou, Lou, wake up.”

Louis groaned and rolled over, ignoring Harry’s soft voice beside his ear as he gently shook him awake. It was still dark in their bedroom. 

“Babe, come on, time to get up.”

“What time is it?” Louis yawned. “Did I sleep through the alarm?”

“I turned it off. The car’s all packed, you just need to get dressed and hop in.”

Louis rolled over onto his back and smiled up at Harry. He reached his hands up and gripped his iron headboard as he arched his back up off the bed, pointing his toes toward the door and stretching his muscles.

“You didn’t have to pack the car alone,” he murmured. “I would’ve helped.”

“Yeah, well, don’t think I didn’t try to wake you up. I believe your exact words were ‘fuck off’ right before you rolled back over.”

“I did not.”

Harry grinned. “You’re not exactly easy to wake.”

Louis chuckled and sat up in bed, tilting his chin up and puckering his lips. Harry smiled and leaned down for a kiss before scrunching his nose and pulling away.

“Your breath is terrible.”

“Good morning to you, too,” Louis laughed. “Alright, let me brush them and throw some clothes on and I’ll be ready to go.”

“Shit,” Harry muttered. “I already packed your toothbrush.”

“No worries, I’ll just brush them when I get there—“

“No,” Harry shook his head, his eyes wide with alarm. “I am not riding in a car with you for hours with that… situation. I’ll go get it from the car while you get dressed.”

Louis rolled his eyes and stood from the bed, watching Harry shuffle down the dark hallway in his socks and out the front door. He yawned again and headed toward the toilet for a long piss before moseying back toward their bedroom and digging around in his drawer for some joggers and a shirt. It was warm enough for just his favorite gray tank and a light jumper. He hoped he wouldn’t be cold when they got there.

Wherever the fuck that was.

He heard the front door open and shut before Harry appeared again in the doorway, Louis’ blue toothbrush and toothpaste clutched in his right hand. 

“Alright,” he said. “Come get it.”

Louis smirked and walked to where Harry stood leaned against the doorframe. He reached up and took the brush and tube of paste from his grip, leaning in close and breathing hot into his face.

“Oh my God,” Harry gagged, stumbling backward down the hallway and choking dramatically. “That’s not normal. You need to get that checked out.”

“That’s your arse on my breath, Styles,” he smirked. “What does that say about you?”

He cackled and glanced back over his shoulder to see Harry raising his middle finger in his direction.

“Keep it up and I’m leaving without you,” Harry said dryly.

Louis stopped at the sink and gave his teeth and tongue a quick brushing, allowing the foam to fall from his mouth as Harry stood in the doorway and smiled. Louis spit into the sink and cupped his hand under the running faucet, bringing a handful of water to his lips and swishing it around in his mouth.

“There,” he said, flashing Harry a toothy smile in the mirror. “So fresh and so clean.”

He shrieked as Harry’s palm met his arse in a hard smack.

“Alright then,” he said, leading Louis down the hallway toward the front door. “Let’s go.”

“Do I get to know where we’re going yet?” Louis asked.

“It’s a surprise.”

“I’m going to figure it out on the drive,” Louis groaned. “Just tell me.”

“Patience is a virtue, Lou. It’ll be worth it.”

Louis pursed his lips and followed him out the door into the dark corridor, waiting for Harry to lock it behind them. He patted his pockets and groaned.

“Fuck, I forgot my phone. And wallet.”

“Already in the car,” Harry said happily.

Louis smiled softly at the back of Harry’s head and reached forward to take his hand, tugging on it gently and stopping him in his tracks. Harry turned to face him.

“Hey, you,” Louis whispered. “Can I have a proper kiss now?”

Harry grinned and leaned forward, winding his fingertips in the back of Louis’ hair and pulling him into a sweet kiss.

“Good morning,” he murmured. “Mmm, you taste much better now.”

“Spearmint.”

Louis followed Harry out the doors onto the sidewalk and climbed into the passenger side of the car, settling in and clicking his seatbelt across his chest and waist. He sighed and rolled his neck back against the headrest, still drowsy and positive he would doze off within the first ten minutes of the drive.

He watched Harry start the car and turn the headlights on, illuminating the still dark street ahead and pulling away from the curb.

“I’ll wake you when we’re there,” he smiled, reaching across and taking Louis’ hand in his. He brought it to his lips and kissed his knuckles before setting it down gently on the center console. “Go to sleep.”

Louis smiled and shut his eyes. 

He really loved him.

******

“Hey, Lou, Lou, wake up.”

Louis blinked his eyes open and focused on the bright car around him. A wave of déjà vu washed over him as he was shaken awake by Harry for the second time this morning. He smacked his lips and looked over at Harry.

“We’re here.”

Louis sat up in his seat and clasped one hand over his mouth, yawning loudly and squeezing his eyes shut. 

“And just where exactly is ‘here’?” he asked. “Wherever it is, it’s too bright—“

Louis opened his eyes and looked straight ahead out the windshield, his voice catching in his throat.

“Oh my God.”

Louis reached for his seatbelt and clicked it open before reaching for the door handle and pulling. He climbed out of the car and felt the sun on his face and a warm breeze in his hair. The air smelled different. Like salt, and water, and sand. He stared out in front of him, seeing blue stretching for miles in every direction.

“Oh my God,” he turned to look at Harry. “Are you serious?”

Harry smiled and walked to the front of the car, leaning back and resting his hip against the hood. Louis tucked himself into his side and kissed his jaw before turning back and looking at the sea.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I can’t believe this. Are we going to get to go out there?”

“As much as you want,” Harry grinned. 

“How far away are we staying?”

“Oh, about… a hundred meters.”

Harry pointed to Louis’ left at a small, white wooden building sitting right off the sand. 

“We’re staying there? Right there?” Louis asked excitedly. “Like, right there?”

“Yep.”

“Can we see the water from our room?”

“Yep.”

Louis squealed and leaned up to kiss Harry sloppily, squeezing his arms around his waist and placing small kisses all over his face.

“This is the best surprise,” he smiled as Harry laughed beneath his attack. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Harry said. “Come on, then. Let’s go unpack.”

*******

“This is amazing.” 

Louis scanned the room and took in the large, white king sized bed positioned along the wall to his right. The bright, sunny yellow walls made everything feel warm and happy and Louis shut his eyes, breathing deeply as Harry slid open one of the large, glass doors that led out onto the small balcony overlooking the sea. He felt the warm ocean breeze blow gently across his face. 

It smelled like… he didn’t know what it smelled like. Unique. He hadn’t expected for the ocean to have a smell, but it did.

It smelled good.

“Is it too warm?” Harry asked. “I can close these—“

“No,” Louis opened his eyes and smiled. “Leave them open.”

He dropped his bag to the floor and kicked off his shoes, falling forward onto the bed and resting his chin on his crossed forearms beneath him. He stared out onto the waves and watched as gulls circled above the whitecaps, cawing and diving periodically in search of their lunch. His stomach growled.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Harry said as he dropped his own bag to the floor and sat down on the bed. “We are going to have lunch next door.”

Louis sighed happily as he felt Harry’s palm on the small of his back, rubbing small circles into the skin with his thumb. He tilted his head and looked up at Harry.

“They have great fresh fish,” Harry said.

“Gross. I will be having a burger.”

“We are at the sea!” Harry frowned. “If there was ever a time to eat fish, it’s now.”

“I will be having a burger,” Louis repeated, pushing himself up onto his elbows and sitting upright on his knees. He reached his arms up over his head and stretched. “And a beer.” 

“You want to put some swim shorts on?”

“Are we going swimming in the sea?” Louis asked excitedly. “It might be cold.”

“Well we didn’t come all this way just to look at it,” Harry grinned. 

Louis watched as he stood from the bed and dropped his joggers to the floor before bending over to unzip his leather bag. The muscles in Harry’s shoulders flexed as he rummaged around and pulled out a pair of small, yellow shorts.

“Those are small,” Louis murmured. He watched as Harry slipped his thumbs under the waistband of his pants and pulled them down, letting his cock hang exposed in front of him before stepping each leg into the yellow shorts and tugging them on. “Very small.”

“Yeah,” Harry frowned, “I haven’t worn these in a while. Don’t remember them being quite this…”

“Short?”

“Short,” Harry agreed. “Do you want me to toss you yours?”

“Please,” Louis grinned. “They’re in the bottom of my bag.”

He settled back on the pillows that lay piled high at the top of the mattress and watched Harry strut across the room. He leaned down and unzipped the flap at the top of the canvas, causing the shorts to ride up and expose his pale thighs.

“We could skip the burgers, you know,” Louis said playfully as he wiggled his eyebrows in the direction of Harry’s arse. “Maybe just eat something else, instead.”

Harry glanced back and shook his head fondly before reaching his hand into Louis’ luggage.

“Filthy.”

 

 

*******  
18.3

THE SEA  
Friday, June 19, 2016

HARRY  
******

“What’s this?” 

Harry’s eyes landed on a small, leather bound notebook peeking out from a pocket hidden beneath Louis’ folded clothes. 

“Wait… is this a diary?”

He saw Louis’ eyes flash panic as he sat up on the bed and shot his arm out, snatching the notebook out of Harry’s fingers and hastily tucking it under his arm.

“It’s nothing,” Louis mumbled.

A visible flush was rising in his cheeks. Harry had never seen Louis embarrassed before. He didn’t really know what to do with that. 

“Hey, shit, I’m sorry, Lou,” he said quietly, crawling forward on the bed and reaching out to take his hand. “I was only messing with you. I’d never go through your personal things, you know that.”

Louis sighed. He turned to face Harry, his cheeks bright pink as his eyes dropped to the notebook.

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he said. 

Harry watched as he reached one hand up and gripped the back of his neck, rubbing the skin awkwardly. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed as his eyes remained fixated on a spot on the comforter to the left of where Harry sat. 

“I brought it to show you, anyway. It’s embarrassing, though.”

“Nothing you do is embarrassing.” 

Louis glanced up to meet Harry’s gaze as he raised one eyebrow in disbelief. 

“Okay, okay, most things you do are embarrassing, but in a funny way,” Harry smiled. “I could never actually be embarrassed of you. I love everything about you. Whatever that is, I promise it’s not embarrassing. But you still don’t have to show me.”

He watched Louis bite his bottom lip and look out over the balcony toward the sea. He sighed and gripped the notebook tightly before extending it out to Harry.

“It’s us,” he said, glancing down at the floor as Harry ran his thumb over the soft, worn leather. There was a small, cursive “L” etched into the bottom right corner. “I’ve been writing lately. Well, not really lately… I’ve been writing for a while, I guess. For the last year. Poems and stuff. Or maybe they’re songs, I don’t really know.” 

Harry sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and smiled up at Louis. A secret journal. Full of Louis’ secret thoughts. How endearing.

“I haven’t written in a long time,” he continued, “since before Uni, actually, but I think, like, meeting you, maybe… being with you… it inspired me. So I’ve been writing again. Here. In this notebook.”

Louis stopped babbling and stared over at Harry. His cheeks were red, the blush on them bright. 

“You don’t have to show this to me,” Harry said. “You are allowed to have private things, you know.”

“No,” Louis crossed his arms over his chest and bit his lip. “I want you to read it. It’s all about you, anyway, so it seems only fair. But if you hate everything it, could you just lie and say that you love it?”

Harry laughed and crawled forward across the bed to pull Louis into a hug. He kissed across his forehead and into the mess of brown hair by his temple before pulling him down onto the bed beside him. Louis tucked himself into Harry’s side, his face resting on the soft, exposed skin where the fabric of his worn tank sagged across his chest. The warm sea breeze flittered into the room and rustled the curtains beside the open balcony doors. 

Harry pressed another kiss into Louis’ hair before flipping the notebook open. The pages were thick and worn looking, each one heavy with smudged black ink. Louis buried his face in Harry’s armpit.

“I’ve never seen you truly embarrassed,” Harry murmured in amusement. “It’s actually quite adorable.”

“Shut up,” Louis grumbled. 

Harry smirked and scanned the pages, reading little bits and bobs of Louis’ thoughts where they were scribbled across the page and into the margins, collected haphazardly over the course of the past year. 

The first time that he saw Harry. Their first date. Their first kiss. Poems and verses and horribly drawn sketches.

The story of them falling in love. Their story.

Harry brought his hand to Louis’ chin and forced his face up so he could lean forward and cover his mouth with his lips, attempting to convey the depth of his feelings silently through his kiss alone. It was impossible.

“I love you,” he breathed against Louis’ mouth. He pulled back to see Louis’ face flushed bright red again, but this time there was a smile on his lips. A good flush. “So much.”

Harry turned his attention back to the notebook as Louis rested his head heavily against his chest once more. He read through Louis’ thoughts, each page capturing both important moments in their relationship as well as seemingly mundane, day-to-day occurrences that Harry didn’t even remember. 

_“This morning you cooked me eggs,_ ” he read aloud. “ _They were too runny, but I didn’t tell you. I spit them out into my napkin and told you they were great._ ”

Harry shut the notebook and whacked Louis in the shoulder with it.

“Ouch! Come on, you know you get too touchy over your cooking,” he protested, rubbing the red skin of his arm as Harry laughed and flipped the book back open. “Remember the Great Steak Debacle of last October?”

“You promised never to bring that up again,” Harry said dryly.

He smiled softly and refocused his attention on the journal. Every page had sloppy writing scrawled into every available space. More than once, Harry had to rotate the notebook to read certain passages where lines sat marked through and re-written again, the phrases chaotic and disjointed and the penmanship nearly illegible. 

It was Louis’ brain on paper.

“ _Frisky. Alan. Smoky. Taco. Jonathan,_ ” Harry read out the list of bizarre words and names. “What is this?”

“A list of names for our future dog,” Louis said.

“Alan? Jonathan? Those aren’t dog names.”

“Those are solid dog names,” he argued. “Strong names. Any dog would be happy to have those names.”

“No puppy wants to be named Alan.”

“We could call him Al for short,” Louis reasoned. “Little Al. Plus, we’re not getting a puppy. We’re getting an old dog.”

“How old?”

“Ancient,” Louis grinned. “The oldest dog in the shelter. The older the better. Maybe we’ll just name him Gramps.”

Harry shook his head fondly and turned the corner to reveal a tidy, organized assembly of words on the following page. No writing in the margins. No scribbles. No strikethroughs. Wholly unlike every other passage he’d seen so far.

“What’s this?” 

“That,” Louis murmured, “was when I realized I was in love with you.”

Harry felt his chest warm as he looked down at Louis’ beet-red face, his long eyelashes casting shadows over his cheeks as his fingers absentmindedly stroked the exposed skin above Harry’s waistband. He was always so beautiful like this, where Harry could look down on him without him knowing. It was his favorite view.

He tore his gaze away from Louis and back to the journal, silently reading the passage that Louis had written about him. For him. 

_You are the most.  
You’re every good feeling that I’ve ever known._

_You are the feel of the softest quilt,_  
the smell of the winter’s first great snow,  
fresh and pure and everything good.

_The opening notes to my favorite song,_  
a melody so sweet it brings tears to my eyes,  
my heart beating in time to your beautiful tune.

_You are the words in my most treasured book,_  
sprawled across worn pages, faded and loved,  
etched deep in my heart where I hold them close.

_You’re every good feeling that I’ve ever known.  
You are the most._

Harry read the passage three times before gently closing the notebook and setting it down gently beside him on the bed. Louis tipped his face up, his brow furrowed in confusion as he glanced back and forth between the journal and Harry.

“Was it stupid?”

Harry shook his head, keeping his eyes locked on Louis.

“It was beautiful,” he said softly. 

He reached his hand up and ran his fingers through Louis’ fringe, pushing it out from in front of his eyes. 

“I love you so much. Thank you.”

“That’s not the end,” Louis mumbled, looking back down toward the notebook with his brow creased. “There’s still a lot left.”

“I know.” Harry smiled down at him as he stroked the rise of his cheek with his thumb. “Not ready for it to be over, though. I’ll save some so I have more to read tomorrow.”

Louis chuckled softly and turned his face to kiss Harry’s palm. 

“I’m running out of room in that notebook, actually,” Louis frowned. “Guess I need to buy a new one.”

“Maybe we can do some shopping after lunch. There are some little shops along the waterfront.”

Louis hummed against the side of his neck and nodded.

“Love you,” he murmured. “Thank you for bringing me here. Now feed me. I’m starving.”

Harry laughed and pushed Louis off of his chest before rising to his feet and stretching his arms above his head. 

“Think I’m going to get that poem tattooed down my forehead,” he grinned as he watched Louis tug on his swim shorts from the other side of the bed. “Especially all that talk about me being your favorite song and your favorite book and whatnot.”

“Is all that talk worth a blowjob later?” Louis teased.

“I think it’s worth two.”

 

******  
18.4

THE SEA  
Friday, June 19, 2016

LOUIS  
******

Louis stared down at where his bare toes curled in the sand, watching as the cool waves that splashed over his feet sent tiny little chill bumps up his legs. The water was murkier than he had been expecting. Not dirty, exactly, just… not as clear as he had imagined it would be. He supposed that maybe you had to go a bit further than Suffolk for crystal clear water. Like Majorca, maybe. 

It was beautiful either way.

He flexed his toes and felt the grit rubbing against the bottoms of his feet, the soles calloused and rough from years of playing footie. He closed both eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose, smelling salt and sun cream on the gentle breeze that blew across the water. The late afternoon sun was warm on his skin as gulls squawked loudly overhead, circling the beach in search of their dinner.

He took another deep breath and opened his eyes to see the sunlight bouncing off of the water. A small, black dot bobbled precariously about fifty meters offshore. He watched as it disappeared beneath the waves momentarily, only to resurface a few moments later closer to where he stood on the sand. 

He saw one arm rise out of the water and wave maniacally before vanishing beneath the surface once again. He stood waiting for Harry’s head to pop back up but was met instead with the image of Harry’s blindingly pale arse breaking through the top of the water. 

His boyfriend, the idiot.

“Get in!” Harry shouted as his head reemerged from beneath the waves. “Feels amazing.”

“You’re going to drown,” Louis chided as he waded out into the water, waves crashing against his shins and knees. It was cool but the sun was still warm enough to make it bearable. “Oh my God, it’s fucking freezing. No wonder no one’s out here.”

“You have to do it faster than that,” Harry said, close enough now that he didn’t need to shout. “Just run and dive in. Like ripping off a band-aid.”

Louis braced himself and took off running. Well, he had intended to take off running, but being that he had never run against ocean waves before he wasn’t prepared for the difficulty of going against the power of the sea. His upper body went toppling forward, his legs still sluggishly trying to move against the force of the waves and his feet sinking into the soft sand beneath them. 

He shut his eyes just in time for his face to meet the water, the waves stirring up silt and grit from below as he accidentally sucked in a bit through his nose. His feet found the bottom as he raised himself up sputtering and choking on the salty liquid. He could hear Harry cackling loudly from a few meters away, floating comfortably in calmer waters out past the breaking point of the waves.

“That was the least graceful thing that I’ve ever seen you do,” he teased, “and I once watched you attempt to receive a blowjob on ice skates.”

“That would’ve worked if you wouldn’t have kept pushing on my thighs,” Louis grumbled as he wiped the salty water out of his eyes. He braced himself just in time for another wave to break into him. “I’m in the worst spot, hold on, I’m coming out there.”

He took a deep breath and dived forward beneath the surface, discovering quickly that going against the waves was much easier beneath the water. He opened his eyes for a moment to get his bearings and saw that he was only a couple of strokes from where Harry floated lazily on the surface. 

He kicked himself forward as his lungs began to protest and grabbed a handful each of Harry’s arse cheeks. Harry flailed and sank under the water as Louis kicked out from beneath him, surfacing and sucking in a big lungful of air between his loud barks of laughter. 

Harry popped up a few meters in front of him, his long hair plastered to his face as he coughed water out of his throat.

“I thought that you were a giant squid,” he said, pushing his wet curls backward out of his eyes. “They can be quite violent.”

“Out of all the things that I could have been, you thought that I was a giant squid,” Louis said fondly. He really loved him. “I don’t think giant squid hang out in shallow waters off the Suffolk Coast, love.”

“You don’t know that, they could be anywhere,” Harry scanned the area around them nervously. “I watched a documentary once.”

“Of course you did,” Louis smiled. “Race you to shore?”

Harry grinned and lunged forward, pushing Louis’ shoulders beneath the waves and propelling himself forward to get a head start.

“Cheater!” Louis shouted as he took off swimming, attempting to grab at Harry’s kicking ankles. “You cheated!”

The two men splashed wildly as they sprinted back toward shore, laughing and sputtering out water as they swam through the breaking waves. Harry was just out of Louis’ grip as he scampered to his feet and tackled him, pulling him down into the shallow water and cackling wildly as the salt burned his eyes.

“You’re an awful swimmer,” Harry wheezed out as he tried to catch his breath, struggling to stand as Louis wrapped his arms tight around his waist and pinned him in the wet sand. “Argh, I have sand in my shorts!”

“There is sand inside of my arse, I think,” Louis laughed. “And I am not an awful swimmer, you only won because you cheated—“

“I didn’t cheat. You shouldn’t challenge people to races if you’re not ready to go—“

Louis cut him off by covering his lips with his own. He felt Harry relax beneath him as he leaned back into the sand, the waves lapping up around them as Louis straddled his waist and kissed him deeply. 

Harry tasted like salt and sun cream and his cheeks were pink and his wet curls were plastered to his face and Louis had never loved him more.

“I’ve never loved you more,” he breathed into Harry’s mouth. “Every day I wake up, and I think to myself, I’ve never loved you more than I do today, and I’ll never be able to love you more than this. And then the next day comes, and I love you more than that.”

He felt Harry wrap his arms around his waist and slip his tongue between his lips, panting slightly as Louis tugged on the wet hair hanging limply down his back. The beach was deserted except for two elderly people walking hand in hand in the opposite direction, enjoying the sunset and not paying attention to them in the slightest.

“I love you, too,” Harry whispered. “I never want to leave this beach.”

******

Louis wrapped his sandy towel around his head and rubbed his wet hair vigorously, shaking out the water droplets and wiping the salt from his eyes. The sun was half-hidden behind the horizon, peeking over the top of the sand dunes and casting an orange and pink glow over the water in front of them. The air was beginning to cool as the light faded, sending chill bumps across Louis’ wet skin as the sea breeze gusted across the deserted beach.

He smiled and watched as Harry wrapped his towel around his shoulders and rubbed his upper arms, shivering slightly. Louis leaned forward and kissed him. He tasted like salt.

“This has been the most perfect day,” he said, his lips still pressed to Harry’s mouth. “I don’t want to leave.”

“We can spend the whole day out here tomorrow,” Harry said. “I brought plenty of sun cream.”

Louis rubbed his towel over his wet swim shorts before pulling his dry joggers on over top of them. He knew they’d be wet by the time they got back to their room, but he was too chilly to care. He reached down and picked up his wallet and cell phone from where they lay on top of the sand, dusting them off and dropping each into his pocket.

“Ready?” he asked Harry. “I’m hungry and I want to fuck you.”

Harry smirked and pulled his jumper on over his head. His wet curls hung in tangled knots past his shoulders, still dripping slowly onto the gray fabric as he bent down to gather his belongings. 

Louis smiled and turned to head toward the small path leading from the beach to the parking lot. His feet sunk in the sand as he walked.

"Oh, shit, hold on… forgot something," Harry said from somewhere behind him. 

Louis turned around to see him standing in place, staring back at him with a small black box gripped tightly in his hand. 

Louis froze.

"I, uhh, forgot something," Harry repeated softly, taking two steps toward Louis, his eyes locked on his face.

He watched Harry look down to the box in his hand before continuing, his words slow and shaky but his smile big. Louis' stomach was queasy as his heart beat wildly beneath his jumper. He felt like he might throw up.

"Lou," Harry said, his voice quiet as he lifted his gaze back up to Louis’ face. "You know I love you."

"I love you too, Haz." 

Louis’ own voice was quiet and quivering. His hands were trembling. He stood frozen in place as he watched Harry take another step toward him, stopping just out of Louis' reach.

"You are… you mean everything to me, Louis," Harry breathed. "You were the most unexpected thing to ever happen to me, and you changed me from the minute you came into my life. Being with you the past year… it has changed me. In the best ways. You make me stronger. You make me braver," he smiled. “You make me better." 

His voice trailed off as he glanced down again, his fingers working to open the box and exposing a thin, black ring inside. Louis couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He was dying. 

He watched as Harry dropped to one knee on the sand in front of him, his eyes big and bright and shiny as tears welled up in them. Louis blinked and wiped his own wetness away, his vision blurry as he tried to focus on Harry in front of him.

"Lou, please, will you—"

"No," he blurted out. 

He watched Harry's face fall as his eyes widened in shock. He dropped his gaze from Louis to the black box in his hand. Shit.

"No, no, shit," Louis said quickly, closing the space between them and dropping to his own knees on the sand in front of Harry. 

"Not no, that’s not what I meant… just… Harry, you're not going to get on one knee in front of me and ask me to marry you like I'd be doing you some sort of fucking favor or something. I want to be down here with you. Beside you. If you're on your knees, I'm on mine. That's how this works." 

He smiled and brought his hand to Harry's face, tucking one of his long, wet curls behind his ear. Harry's mouth broke into a huge grin as he reached up and laced Louis' fingers between his own, squeezing gently and still clutching the box with the ring in his free hand. 

"I love you," Louis said softly as his chest heaved beneath his jumper. He felt a hot tear escape the corner of his eye as he smiled at Harry. "So, so much. Now, please, continue."

"I love you, too," Harry reached up to wipe the stray teardrop from Louis' cheek. He squeezed Louis' fingers again. "So, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted—" 

Louis giggled into his fist and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. 

"—You are the best, most important thing in my life. Which is really impressive because my life is actually pretty great. But you… you’re the best thing about it." 

Harry beamed as Louis laughed. He could feel his cheeks burning as he listened to Harry's words but he didn’t care. He was too happy to be embarrassed.

"You are loud and spontaneous and caring and kind. You make me laugh every single day with your smart mouth and your quick wit. You are unlike anything I've ever known. Unlike anyone I've ever known. I am so thankful,every single day… so thankful you chose me. So thankful I’m yours. I want to be yours for the rest of my life."

Louis watched Harry reach his shaking fingers into the box and pull the ring out from its slit in the velvet cushion. He held it out toward Louis, happy tears spilling from his eyes as he blinked across at him, his smile big and watery. 

"I love you, Lou. Marry me, please?"

Louis felt like he might float off the planet. He was living the best day—the best moment— of his life, no doubt about that. He gripped Harry's free hand tightly and leaned in toward him, kissing him deeply before pulling back with a big, wet smile. 

God, he loved this man.

"That depends," he sniffled. 

He lifted his arse up from where it rested on his heels in the sand and reached into his back pocket, pulling out the old, beat up wallet that he'd had since before Uni. He slipped his finger into a small, worn pouch and dug around before pulling out a shiny, silver ring and extending it toward Harry.

"Bought this two months after I met you," he said softly. 

He turned the thin silver band over in his hand as Harry stared down at it, his mouth hanging open in shock. 

"That's all it took. Two months. Two months and I knew that you were it for me. And, if I'm being honest, I think I knew even before that," he sniffled. His voice shook as tears streaked down his cheeks. 

Harry reached up to wipe under his eye with his thumb, his smile bigger and brighter than the setting sun behind them. Louis took a deep breath and reached out to squeeze Harry's fingers before continuing. 

"You are the kindest, warmest person I have ever met. You are every good thing that I could have ever imagined. You have the biggest heart. You encourage me to be the best version of myself.”

"I only ever want to build you up," Harry said quietly.

"You do.”

He shut his eyes as Harry leaned forward and kissed him softly.

“I don't think I could have even dreamed you, yet here you are,” Louis breathed against his lips. “I never want to be without you." 

Harry sniffled and chuckled softly as he pulled back, his dimple deep as he looked across at Louis. 

"I love you, Haz. Marry me, please?"

******

“I love you,” Louis moaned into the side of Harry’s neck. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He slipped both thumbs under the waistband of Harry’s still-damp swim shorts and pulled them down, feeling the cool, bare skin beneath them as his hands moved. He inhaled sharply as he felt Harry insert another finger into his arse beside the first two and press down hard against Louis’ prostate.

“I love you,” he whimpered. He wrapped his palm around Harry’s cock and pumped lazily, tilting his head back and panting upward at the ceiling. “I’m going to love you forever.”

Louis thrust his hips up rhythmically as Harry ground his arse down onto his rock hard dick where he straddled Louis’ thighs on the bed. He felt Harry’s body shudder as Louis sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of his shoulder leaving four, small, tooth-sized indentations in the skin.

“I love you,” Harry groaned as he dropped his forehead to Louis’ neck and lazily kissed his collarbone. “Going to love you forever.”

Louis sighed and nuzzled his face into Harry’s palm where it lay pressed against his cheek, gently tracing Louis’ skin with his thumb. He reached up and covered Harry’s hand with his own and let his fingers drag over the new silver ring that sat happily beneath his knuckle. 

He turned his face and kissed the inside of Harry’s palm.

“I’m going to love you forever.”

He forced himself to relax as he felt Harry remove his fingers from his arse and brought his hand up to Louis’ hip. He arched his back to let Harry slip his forearm beneath the curve of his lower back where it lay pressed flat against the bed. Harry dropped his other hand from Louis’ face and slid his wrist beneath Louis’ neck, cradling his upper body in both arms as he nudged Louis’ thighs open with one knee. 

Louis pressed his lips to the hot skin of Harry’s neck and exhaled slowly as he felt the tip of his cock push inside of him.

“Going to love this nose forever,” Harry whispered as he kissed the tip of Louis’ nose and pushed in deeper. “Going to love these lips forever. These cheeks, these eyes.”

Louis focused on Harry’s voice and let his muscles relax, breathing steadily and shutting his eyes as Harry’s lips gently brushed his forehead.

“Going to love this body forever,” Harry murmured as he began to thrust slowly into Louis. “Going to love this brain, this mind. This mouth.” 

He kissed Louis deeply as his hips picked up speed. 

“Every last bit of you.” 

Louis whimpered and wrapped both arms around Harry’s neck as he let him fuck him slowly and deliberately, breathing in the scent of salt and sweat and sun cream still lingering on his skin. He whined and bit down gently on Harry’s earlobe to keep from crying out.

He ran both of his hands through Harry’s hair and dragged his fingernails across his scalp, sending a shudder through Harry’s body where it hovered above him. 

“Going to love you forever,” Louis breathed. One hot tear trailed down his cheek as he squeezed his eyes shut tight. “For the rest of my life.”

“For the rest of our lives,” Harry grunted.

He dug his fingertips into Louis’ flesh and began thrusting harder, obviously close to the edge as his movements became frantic. Louis could feel the familiar, heavy pull between his own legs as he reached one hand down and stroked his dick. 

“I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Going to marry the fuck out of you,” Louis babbled as he jerked himself off, kissing the side of Harry’s sweaty neck and feeling his legs tremble as Harry pounded into his prostate over and over. “Can’t wait to be your husband.”

“Can’t wait to be yours,” Harry panted. “Oh God, fuck, I’m close, Louis—“

Louis stroked himself harder and faster and felt his cock throb at the point of no return. He turned his head and covered Harry’s lips in a desperate kiss, letting his tongue slide into Harry’s mouth and biting wildly at his bottom lip as he shuddered and came. He cried out as he spilled into his palm and shot hot onto Harry’s abs above him. Harry grunted and came hard inside of Louis, filling him up as his muscles trembled and his chest heaved.

They lay there for a moment breathing frantically into each others’ mouths as they came down from their orgasms, their foreheads pressed together and lips turned up into big, happy smiles.

“I love you, fiancé,” Louis murmured, kissing Harry’s chin gently.

“Fiancé,” Harry sighed. “I like the sound of that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment (I read every single one of them), but remember, be nice to nice.


	19. EPILOGUE: The Vows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding Song:  
> "River Flows in You" by Yiruma

******  
19.1

THE VOWS  
February 1, 2017

LOUIS  
******

Louis balanced the heavy cardboard box precariously on one hip as he reached up and pulled open the glass door, listening as the small bell tinkled above his head to announce his arrival. He grunted and stuck one foot out to block the door from swinging shut on him as he clutched the bottom of the box and lifted it up.

“Hold on, hold on,” he heard Harry’s voice call out as he waddled through the doorway and into the warmth of the store. “I’ll help you if you just hold on a moment—”

“I feel like the bottom of this box is about to give out,” he grumbled as he felt Harry’s hands slip under the opposite side, taking some of the weight off and allowing his muscles to relax. “Dunno why Ben insists on ordering these shitty discount boxes—“

“He’s an idiot. You know this.”

Louis smiled and walked backward carefully as the two men carried the box toward the register. He placed his end gently on the counter, relieved that they’d made it in one piece without sending two-hundred Little Mix CDs flying all over the cold, dark sidewalk outside. 

“These look great,” Harry grinned as he picked one up and turned it over in his hands, examining the cover and track list on the back. “What did the girls think?”

“They’re so pumped. Said they want to take us to dinner to thank us when we get back.”

“Us?” Harry laughed, lifting one eyebrow at Louis. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes you did. You didn’t have to offer to stock their album. Not yet, at least.”

“I wanted to! They’re going to be huge!”

Louis smiled and leaned forward to place a soft, close-mouthed kiss to Harry’s lips.

“Hey you,” he murmured. “Ready to be my husband?”

“I am,” Harry smiled against his lips. “Are you ready to be mine?”

“Can’t wait,” Louis grinned as he pulled away. “What time can you leave here?”

“As soon as I get these organized and lock up the store. Nina’s covering for me while we’re gone and I don’t want her to have to mess with it tomorrow.”

“A whole week without work,” Louis sighed happily. “I can’t wait. Scared about the plane ride, though.”

“You know you’ve got a better chance of dying in a car accident than you do a plane crash, right?”

“I don’t like how high they go,” he complained. “It’s… too high.”

“You don’t like how high they go,” Harry said dryly. “They’re airplanes, Louis.”

“No human being should be that high up.” 

He was very much not looking forward to their seven-hour flight to New York City on Sunday morning. Like, very much not looking forward to it. Luckily, Zayn had given him two small, blue pills and had told him to take them with a glass of Scotch thirty minutes before takeoff. He was hoping to spend the entire flight asleep and drooling happily on Harry’s shoulder. 

He was also hoping that these pills weren’t going to kill him.

“It’s just not natural.” 

“Millions of people fly every year,” Harry argued, his voice exasperated. “You need to relax.”

Louis bit his tongue to keep from telling Harry that he’d spent his entire morning researching aviation fatalities in preparation for their trip. Although, he did suppose that if he was going to die in a fiery plane crash, it might as well be on the way to his honeymoon with Harry by his side.

He shook his head and forced the morbid thought from his mind. Thank God for Zayn and the little blue pills. Maybe he should take one now.

“When is your family supposed to get here?” Harry asked, snapping him out of his daze. “Tonight?”

“That’s the plan, but I haven’t heard from mum. She was supposed to call when they got on the road.”

“Hope the weather holds off.”

The two men looked toward the front of the store and out the large, glass windows onto the sidewalk outside. Light snow flurries had begun to fall since Louis had arrived only moments ago.

“She won’t drive in this, you know,” he sighed. “Maybe it’s for the best, though. I felt guilty leaving them tonight.”

“No feeling guilty about our bachelor party. You’ve got to enjoy it. Make it count.” 

“Eh, if this one sucks, I’ll just make up for it with my next husband,” Louis shrugged. “Ouch! Kidding, I was only kidding…”

He rubbed his bicep where Harry had landed a swift and hard punch. He was just kidding, of course. He would never want anyone else as long as he lived. That much he knew for certain.

“Here, scooch that basket over and start stacking the Little Mix ones by the register,” Harry said. “Oh, I meant to tell you! We sold three of those today.”

Louis glanced down to where Harry was pointing at the basket of Black Orchid CDs perched on the counter. Their five faces stared back up at him from beneath the hand-drawn logo across the top. It had taken Zayn a measly three hours to sketch something that all five of them had loved, and they had used an old, beat up couch that Liam scrounged up backstage at the Children’s Theatre to take the photo. 

Very artsy. Very vintage-chic. Very budget.

All of it had been very budget, actually.

Scrounging up all the spare cash that they could find to pay for a week’s worth of after-hours studio time to record it. Begging a friend of Niall’s to do the photo shoot for the cover pro-bono. Saving their tips from four months’ worth of open mic nights at Ed’s to pay for the printing and packaging of three-hundred copies of the album. 

All of that, and three copies sold. Three.

Louis’ chest swelled with pride. Three copies sold. Three different people paid actual, real money to own their music. 

“Seriously?” he grinned up at Harry as they arranged the stack of Little Mix CDs beside the register. “Who bought them?”

“Some girl bought one. Looked like she was about our age? And some old guy bought one. And I bought the third,” Harry said sheepishly, dropping his eyes to the floor. “I know it’s stupid since we’ve got, like, hundreds of copies at home. I’ve just always wondered what it would be like to buy my own album from a store. Couldn’t resist.”

Louis felt his chest warm and swell as he looked up at Harry. He knew this man, he woke up tangled in his limbs each and every morning, he watched him brush his teeth and groggily wipe the sleep from the corners of his eyes before starting his day. He knew how he liked his coffee and how he took his tea, he knew which music to play when he was sad to get him to relax into Louis’ chest and let him soothe the hurt away. 

He knew every inch of his body, had mapped it out again and again and again with his fingertips and his lips and his tongue, both in the daylight and in total darkness. 

He knew what he was thinking before he said it, sometimes before he even thought it. Knew that he could make him laugh just by reading the bad jokes on the back of the cereal box and knew that he cried every time he watched Steel Magnolias even though he’d seen it fifty times and knew what made all of his parts tick through and through. 

He knew this man’s mind and his heart and his softness and warmth, and still, even then, even knowing all of this, Harry found ways to surprise him. Even now, two days before he got to call him his forever, he still found ways to make Louis love him more.

“I love you,” he said. “Marry me.”

“Planning on it.”

******  
19.2

THE VOWS  
February 3, 2017

HARRY  
******

Harry leaned his hips back against one of the white, wooden chairs and looked up into the rafters overhead. He took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out slowly, reaching his hand up to loosen the silk, black tie around his neck. It felt tight.

He thought back to a time when he had stood just like this in the shadows beside the stage in Ed’s pub, waiting anxiously for Louis to walk through the front doors, still a stranger to him back then. 

He had been nervous that night. Nervous to perform, but mostly nervous to see Louis again. The man that had enchanted him from the moment they’d met. He had wanted so badly to know him. 

That was one of his favorite nights.

Time had passed since then yet here he stood, over a year later, in the same position. Still waiting for that same man. Still wanting more than anything to know him. But things had changed. He did know Louis. He knew everything about him. And Harry wasn’t nervous anymore. 

He was calm.

“You alright?” 

He blinked his eyes open and looked to his right to see Liam standing in the middle of the aisle, his hands tucked down deep into the pockets of his black pants.

“Not getting cold feet, are you?” he raised an eyebrow playfully at Harry.

“No, my feet are warm. Toasty, actually.”

Harry smiled at Liam and sat down heavily into the white wooden chair. He stared straight ahead. The strands of naked light bulbs that hung crisscrossed from the rafters cast a soft, warm glow over the large room. 

He felt Liam settle into the chair beside him. 

“The lights are pretty,” Liam said. “Makes it feel a bit like a dream in here.”

Harry glanced up and smiled to himself as the two men sat side-by-side in comfortable silence. Louis had requested that they have the lights and Harry had been happy to oblige him. They reminded him of a night spent lying on his living room floor inside of a makeshift tent made out of bed sheets, with Louis’ head resting on his chest and sweet words tumbling from his lips.

That was one of his favorite nights, too.

“Thank you,” Harry said quietly as he glanced sideways at Liam.

“For what?”

“None of this would have happened without you.”

He smiled at Liam before turning back to face the front of the room. 

“I love him,” Harry said, his voice almost a whisper. “Thank you for bringing him to me.”

He felt Liam’s hand settle gently between his shoulder blades in quiet acknowledgement of his words. He let it rest there for a moment before pulling back, sighing audibly. Harry could see him messing with his cufflinks out of the corner of his eye.

“He loves you,” Liam said quietly. “He’s my best friend. Take care of him.”

“I will.”

Harry cracked his neck to either side and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together in front of his mouth.

“I think Lottie is ready for you.”

Harry glanced up to see Liam gesturing at the doorway toward the back of the room. He turned in his seat to see Lottie holding a large pink and purple makeup bag in one hand and waving happily with the other.

“I’m going to go check on Louis,” Liam said. He clapped one hand to Harry’s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly as he stood from his chair. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Harry nodded silently and offered up a small wave as Liam spun on his heel and walked toward the exit. The heavy, wooden door swung shut behind him, leaving Harry and Lottie alone in the room.

“Come on then, handsome,” she grinned. “Let’s make you gorgeous.”

 

*******  
19.3

THE VOWS  
Saturday, February 3, 2017

LOUIS  
******

“Stop messing with it, love.” 

Louis watched as Jay appeared in the mirror behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest, effectively pinning them to his sides. 

“You’re going to ruin it.”

“Does it look stupid?” he asked, struggling to free one arm from beneath her grip and resume adjusting his hair. “Does it look too... fluffy?”

“It looks perfect.”

He sighed and relaxed into his mother’s hug, wrapping each of his palms around her forearms where they rested against his shoulders and chest.

“Are you nervous?” she asked softly.

Louis considered it. Excited? Yes. Horny? Very. Nervous?

“No,” he said with an easy smile. “Not at all.”

Jay grinned and leaned forward, attempting to place a kiss onto his cheek but landing mostly on his jaw. A bright red smudge of lipstick stained his skin as she pulled back.

“Whoops,” she laughed. “Come here, let me get that off.”

Louis turned to watch her as she walked over to her bag and reached inside, pulling out a small, clean tissue. She smiled as she approached him and began wiping at the spot of lipstick.

“You know, I remember when you were just a boy,” she said quietly as she worked, her touch gentle as she took care not to irritate his skin. “You were always so loud. Always running around, getting into something. Impossible to control. Thought you were going to put me in an early grave.”

Louis smiled and shut his eyes. He remembered those times, too. Always in trouble. A right menace.

“Even when you got older you were hard to handle. Even now that you’re grown. Harder, actually, at times,” she laughed softly as she rubbed at his cheek. “I always worried that whoever you ended up with would try to change that. Dim you. Take away your spark.” 

They stood in silence for a moment while she finished cleaning him up.

“There, all done.”

Louis opened his eyes to see her dropping the soiled tissue into the bin beside the mirror.

“He doesn’t, though,” she said. Her smile was soft and easy and sweet. “He loves you for who you are. Loves that loud, wild boy just as much as I do. Loves to watch you shine.”

Louis reached up and wrapped his arms around her neck to pull her into a tight hug. He looked up to the ceiling and tried to blink back the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. Lottie would kill him if he fucked up her work.

“I’m so proud of you, Louis,” she whispered into his hair. “So, so proud.”

“Love you, too,” Louis mumbled. He squeezed her one last time before releasing his grip. “Thank you for everything.”

Jay stepped back and dabbed at her cheeks as Louis wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He didn’t know how he was going to make it the rest of the day, honestly. He had almost lost it earlier at the sight of Ernie and Doris in their toddler-sized formalwear with his and Harry’s rings secured to the fronts of their outfits. It was going to be hard enough to herd two three year-olds down the aisle without also having to keep track of the rings, too. They looked so fucking cute. 

Then he’d almost lost it again when his sisters had come in, all of them in white and with Gemma among them, hugging him and wishing him luck and love.

And then again when Lottie had stayed behind to fix his hair, arguing with him that just a smidge of eye shadow and a trace of pencil would make his eyes pop and leave Harry speechless. He’d sat still for her as she worked on his face, reminiscing about when they used to play Make Believe Wedding back in the day with Louis as the bride and Lottie as the groom because kids don’t know better than to know love is love.

And then he’d almost lost it once more in his mother’s embrace as he listened to her talk sweetly about the man that he was moments away from calling his husband. 

He wasn’t going to make it.

They both turned as they heard the door to the suite swing open behind them.

“You ready?” Liam asked as he popped his head in through the opening. “We’ve got five minutes.”

Louis felt his stomach swoop as he nodded. He didn’t think he’d ever been more ready for anything in his life.

“Ready.”

“See you out there, love,” Jay whispered quickly as she reached down to squeeze his hand one last time. “You look gorgeous.”

Louis smiled and released his grip on her fingers as she walked toward the doorway of the small room, giving a quick hug to Liam before disappearing out and into the hallway beyond.

“You look great,” Liam grinned. “So does Harry. You’re gonna flip when you see him, honest to God.”

Louis beamed at the thought of Harry waiting for him somewhere in this building, his broad shoulders and slim waist tucked neatly into a fresh-pressed suit and both of his dimples on full display. 

He sighed happily and smiled at Liam.

“Well, let’s go get him, then.”

******

“Got any advice?” Louis asked as they made their way down the hall. 

His stomach was in knots, but he wasn’t afraid. Just excited. 

“Don’t waste time eating at the reception,” Liam said. “Try to talk to everyone. Dance a lot. This is one of the only times that all of your favorite people are going to be in the same room. Enjoy it.”

Louis took a deep breath and smoothed the front of his suit. His eyes darted around as they walked, anxiously searching for Harry. 

“Try not to stress about the honeymoon. Your flight will probably be late, and you’ll probably get lost, and everything will be expensive, but splurge on it anyway. And when he wants to take pictures of you, don’t complain.”

“What about marriage in general?” Louis asked, stopping beside Liam where he came to a halt in front of a doorway. “Any last minute pearls of wisdom? I need a Newlyweds for Dummies book.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Liam grinned. “It’s been eight months and Zayn and I are still figuring it out. He’s going to get on your nerves, but probably not any more than you get on his, so cut him a break.”

Louis glanced up and met Liam’s eyes. They seemed a little wet. He didn’t mention it.

“He loves you a lot, you know,” Liam said quietly. “You’ve been my best friend my whole life, and I couldn’t have picked a better person for you.”

Louis reached forward and pulled his friend into a tight hug. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. “For being here. Love you.”

Liam laughed and pulled back, holding Louis at arm’s length and smiling happily. His eyes were definitely wet, now.

“He’s right in there,” he nodded at the doorway over his shoulder. “Go get married.”

Louis had to hold himself back from bursting through the door to get to Harry. He could hear soft music wafting out through the small crack above the floorboards, the melody recognizable as the song he and Harry had chosen months before. 

Hazy.

“See you in there,” Liam grinned as the wedding organizer approached him and gestured toward the opposite end of the hallway. “Got to go get in position.”

Louis nodded and watched Liam’s back as he walked away down the hallway in the direction in which they’d come, presumably to use a side entrance to get into the room and take his place with Zayn and Niall beside Harry.

They’d decided to have three best men, because fuck the rules.

“Thirty seconds,” the wedding planner said. Louis heard the music change over to the soft piano ballad that they’d selected to play as he walked down the aisle. River Flows in You. Harry’s favorite. “You okay?”

Louis grinned and felt his stomach swoop as he began counting backward from thirty.

“Never better.” 

******  
19.4

THE VOWS  
Saturday, February 3, 2017

HARRY  
******

Harry locked his eyes on the heavy, wooden door across the room from where he stood at the altar with his heart lodged squarely in his throat. He was only partially aware of the dozens of eyes fixated on him. 

He only had eyes for one person at the moment.

He counted backward from thirty as the room filled with the sweet piano music they had so carefully chosen, knowing Louis was standing just out of sight on the other side of the door doing the same. 

When he reached five he heard the door creak and he inhaled sharply, clenching his jaw and flexing his fist as he waited. The door swung open and his eyes immediately locked on the matching set of blues standing directly opposite to him across the room.

Louis.

Harry felt hot tears welling up in the corners of his eyes as he watched Louis walk toward him quickly, too quickly, much more quickly than they’d rehearsed, actually, but laughing and smiling the whole way. The small, white rose petals that littered the old hardwood floor of the aisle lay smashed behind Louis’ hurried steps, ruined and destroyed in his wake.

A menace. A disaster. 

Harry’s menace. Harry’s disaster.

He laughed as Louis arrived in front of him and they stood face to face, both men grinning like idiots and neither caring about the tears blurring their vision. He reached out and laced his fingers between Louis’ and squeezed both hands tightly, only vaguely hearing the words that the minister spoke beside them as they stared stupidly at each other, saying nothing. 

As far as Harry was concerned, they were the only two in the room.

“Harry and Louis have opted to write their own vows,” he heard the minister say. “Harry, if you would…”

He cleared his throat and dropped one of Louis’ hands, reaching up and into the pocket of his suit jacket to retrieve the small, folded, white piece of cardstock that contained his vows. He smiled at Louis and squeezed his fingers, gripping the paper tight in his free hand as he began to speak.

“Louis,” he said shakily. He cleared his throat again. “Lou. My favorite person. My best friend.”

He paused as Louis reached his free hand up and wiped his eye with the back of his hand. 

“Every day with you is fun. You make my life colorful and bright because you’re colorful and bright. From the moment I met you, you’ve made me feel like I could be more. Be anything, do anything. You make me brave, you give me strength. You make me strong.”

Harry stopped and wiped the back of his nose with his own hand, leaving a trail of snot across his skin. Louis giggled.

“You’re the love of my life. My best friend. I promise to take care of you and protect you the best I can, now and always. I promise to love you for the rest of my life.”

He brought his eyes back up to Louis’ and grinned a huge, watery smile at him. He knew he looked a mess, and he didn’t care. He was about to have a husband.

Louis inhaled deeply and squeezed Harry’s hand as he reached into his own pocket and retrieved a worn, tattered piece of paper with writing scribbled all over it. It actually may have been a napkin. It was hard to tell, but it would be just like Louis to write the most important words he’d ever say on a piece of paper people blow their noses on.

“Harry,” Louis said. He blinked his eyes rapidly and one tear rolled down his cheek. “Hazza. My favorite person. My best friend.”

Harry grinned at the familiar words. 

“You are the kindest person I’ve ever known. You are patient and loving and gracious and everything I wish I could be more of, but I figure you’re enough of those things for the both of us, so I should be good.”

A hushed and scattered round of laughter rose up around them. Harry had forgotten that they weren’t alone.

“You have a warmth that I’ve never known in anyone else. It radiates off of you and touches everyone around you, and you don’t even know that you’re doing it. You calm me, you make me feel at peace. You ground me. Hold me together. You bring stillness to my chaos.”

Harry was crying openly now. He prayed that whatever Lottie had put on his face was waterproof.

“You are the love of my life. My best friend. I truly believe that I was put on this Earth for the sole purpose of loving you, and that you were meant to be loved by me. I promise to love you for the rest of my life.”

Louis crumpled the paper up and stuffed it back into his pocket, sniffling and wiping his eyes with his free hand before dropping it back to Harry’s and squeezing tight. The minister was talking again, but Harry couldn’t hear. He was floating.

“—Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you.... spouses,” the minister said happily. “You may now kiss the Groom.”

Harry grinned across at Louis as a round of happy applause and shouting broke out among their friends and family. The two men leaned forward and met in the middle, their hands still intertwined in front of them and squeezing tightly as their lips met.

“Spouses,” Harry smiled against Louis’ mouth. “I always have said that word is underappreciated.”

“Husbands,” Louis murmured as he reached up and wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck. “My husband.”

“My husband.”

Harry was going to float away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! And a huge thank you to every single person who has left a kudos, left a comment, or sent me a message (my tumblr is banana-louis.) 
> 
> Big big BIG thank you to my best friend, my ride or die since '04, my BFFL for all the words of encouragement and for editing these chapters before they posted. Also for pimping this fic around the fandom. Love you, B.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a comment and remember... be nice to nice.


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